When the Writer Interferes
by C. Selene Belle
Summary: First off, it takes place in my own Escaflowne Universe. You'd have to read Of Shadows and Light to understand some what goes on. Personally, it might be a waste of time - although some people claim to like this story. Give it a try. You might like it too
1. Part 1

The frustrations of the afternoon where wearing down on her faster than she would have liked to admit

Okay, guys. I don't know WHY I'm even posting this. It's really stupid 

and probably won't even make a whole lot of sense. I wouldn't be 

surprised if the very idea disinterested you from the beginning. 

Though, if you are actually venturing into this particular realm there 

ARE a few things I'd like to make clear before you do so.

This is RAW ROLEPLAY between Croik and myself. I give a lot of credit 

to Croik on this one because she always wrote Allen. I'm sure you'll be 

able to figure out who "Ayryn" is and will probably end up hating me 

for it. *sniff* Don't hate me yet. I'm still good for some things.

Second, the plot is sketchy, if one can actually call it a plot. I'm 

not sure what the plot is. It's unfinished and will probably always be 

unfinished unless people actually like it to the point of demanding 

more . . . I doubt that though.

Third, just because I wrote the story this is based off of and Ayryn 

claims to have written the story (she's basically me), a lot of what 

Ayryn does is not true to myself. Once Ayryn entered the realm of 

fiction, she too became fiction even if some events she describes are 

based from real life occurances. Don't worry, I'm not psycho.

Fourth, this is not a sneak peak at what will happen in Of Shadows and 

Light. In fact, this started before I thought up the plot for the real 

story. The events in this timeline go in a completely different 

direction. You won't even see Denevive (and the crowd cheers . . .). It 

takes place a month or so after Allen loses his arm (there goes my 

audience). So here we go with the story (or lack thereof).

I hope you all find it in your hearts to forgive me and enjoy the 

fiction. Sorry, Croik, my friend. I had to do it. It was just sitting 

on my computer, being unappreciated. SOMEONE's bound to like this . . . 

I think .........@_@

Love,

C. Selene Belyea *^-^*

@}-----}-----------

The frustrations of the afternoon where wearing down on her faster than she would have liked to admit. Writer's block was a terrible thing sometimes and it just made her tired to think about. Sleep sounded like a much better idea anyway. Off she wandered to her small dormitory and flopped on her bed, shutting her eyes and almost forcing slumber to appear. Why can't adventure happen in real life, like in her stories? Why did things have to be so - realistic? Sleep came longer than she would have liked, but it came nonetheless. Her breath relaxed and her world changed. 

Transition to that world was always strange to experience. When things seemed real and you had to tell yourself that it's just a dream. It was dark this time, not like other dreams she'd had. But when she took in a deep breath, the air was sweet with flowers and grass. Warmth was on her face and she thought to herself, _my dreams have gotten extremely vivid lately._ _Well, that's what you get for using your imagination too much._ She opened her eyes and there stopped. The sun was above her, the grass was around her, and she stared up the length of three feet of steel pressed against her neck.

Celena stared down the length of her sword at the strange girl that she'd come across. It wasn't one of the maids...she was dressed in such strange clothing. "I hope you realize," Celena said evenly, "that you're trespassing, whoever you are."

She stared at her, wide-eyed and dared not gulp with the sword in such a precarious place. "T-trespassing?" Trembling came quickly to her small form and she didn't know how to react. The sword bearer - she knew who she was but, "This - can't be real!" She scrambled out from under the sword's reach, climbing to her feet and backing away. "I can't believe this! This," she calmed and laughed suddenly, "I get it. It's a dream. It's all just -" She grabbed a chunk of grass to prove her point but stared at it when it was as real as anything she's ever touched. "H-holy mother of Jehova's Witnesses!"

Celena lifted a pale eyebrow, regarding the strange girl with mixed confusion, apprehension, and amusement. She certainly didn't look like a spy or a thief. Probably some noble's foreign hand-maiden or something. Still, she didn't sheathe her sword just yet. "Calm down. Just tell me what you're doing here."

She held her head in her hands. "What did I take before going to sleep? I've sworn off Nyquil! I don't - think I took any...I - What?" She asked, looking at the girl and realizing she had spoken to her. "I'm . . . I haven't the slightest idea what the hell I'm doing here!" she practically yelled, throwing her arms up in defeat. "This is supposed to be something that happens to people who don't have anything better to do in their lives! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph on a crutch!" She cursed, "And you! I know who you are. Celena, right?"

Celena took a step back at the mention of her name, her sword grip tightening. What in the names of the Gods was she babbling about? "Who are you?" she demanded, her tone warning. "How do you know me?"

"Me?" she pointed at herself. "You want to know who I am?"

"Yes, you. Who are you, what are you doing here, and how do you know me?" She lifted her chin haughtily. "If I don't like your answers, I'll hand you over to the knights, so you'd better have a good excuse for being here."

"Being here." She echoed and looked around. "I assume this is - Schezar property?"

Celena's face twisted in frustration. "You know my name, but you didn't know that?" She lifted her sword menacingly. "Now answer my questions."

_Sword_, she thought nervously, _sword coming closer_.... "I'm -," She stopped, realizing what she was going to say. How did she get here, from a world that knows this one as nothing but fantasy? This is a story . . . she traveled to a story? There were several books and stories about such adventures and she recalled them, remembering what the heroines did in such situations - made up their appearance. "I'm from - well. I can't remember where I'm from. But everyone knows who the Schezars are - I think." _That's right. Pretend you have amnesia! Maybe she'll buy it._

"You....don't remember?" Celena frowned. She should have known better than to trust anything the girl said, but it hadn't been long when she was in a similar circumstance... Her tone softened considerably. "How would you remember us? I've never seen you before."

"Gaea is a very large place, my lady." She said, finally curtseying respectively to her. She remembered the Schezars were nobility; also that many thought Hitomi was a hand-maiden due to her outfit. Her own clothes were out of the ordinary, true, having worn denim jeans which the material is best known for tents in a world such as this. Her top would be deemed promiscuous due to the fact that it slightly revealed her mid-rift and was tight around the bosom. _What an atrocious condition to be found in, in such a place_, she thought.

"I suppose it is." Celena sheathed her sword, at last deciding that there was no threat in the stranger. She didn't appear to be carrying a weapon, and her posture was not of a fighter. Perhaps she really was a lost handmaid--or a slave. Perhaps that would explain her attire... "Well, can you tell me your name, at least?"

_My name?_ Again, she would have to use her deceptive talents. "Ayryn." she said confidently, remembering her favorite character from games of Dungeons and Dragons she would play with her friends. "Ayryn Selanesi, at your service, my lady." She curtseyed again, this time a bit more gracefully and smugly recalling the fact that 'Ayryn' was an elven princess...although that personality would not go over very well here.

She certainly had changed her attitude quickly, Celena noted with some disquiet. From all jittery to polite in a brief moment. Well, anyone in her situation would be frightened and confused at first. She hummed thoughtfully as she considered the name--she didn't know the Selanesi line, but it sounded Cesarian. "Well, Ayryn," she declared suddenly, "I guess I can at least offer you some hospitality. Would you like to come back to the house with me?"

_Yeah, as long as your brother's there_, she thought but she had to repress the smile that was tempted to cross her lips. She bowed her head, "I would appreciate that, very much, my lady. And, uh," she looked down at herself, covering her exposed flesh with an embarrassed smile, "would you be able to spare some appropriate attire for me? You have caught me in my casual clothing that is not very becoming of me in society." 

"Oh, certainly." _A maid's dress for her_, Celena thought to herself. She may have been raised to be polite, but there was no way she was allowing this stranger to wear any of the new outfits her brother had bought for her recently. She started down the hill toward the Schezar home. "Come on, then. Is there anything more you can tell me about yourself? How you got here, for instance?"

She quickly caught up with the taller girl, almost left behind by Celena's quick depart. "I - I'm afraid I can't remember. I think I was out for a walk. It's strange that I can't remember, though. I - I might have been attacked and maybe that's why I can't remember." She shrugged, "I really don't know. The details of that are sort of sketchy." _So, is your brother home? He still seeing that princess? Can I have him instead? Shut up_, she scolded herself.

"Hmmm. You have my sympathy, then." Ayryn sounded sincere enough, but also strangely eager. Perhaps it was simply her nature. "Well, I didn't see anyone out there besides you."

She sighed, shaking her head and hoping she was more convincing than what it appeared to be. "True. Like I said, I really don't remember. I have no marks on me so perhaps I wasn't attacked after all. Otherwise there would be physical signs of struggle. Are we almost there?" She changed the subject, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. Not too far in the distance stood a large manor with round roofs. Funny, it never looked that way within her imagination.

"It's just over there," Celena indicated. She looked her companion over critically. "I've never seen clothes quite like yours, so I'm afraid I can't offer you much help. You must have traveled far." She shrugged. "In any case, you'll be welcomed to stay for a while. We don't have much, but I think my brother could use the company."

Some sort of wild elation filled the girl suddenly with those words and she desperately tried to keep herself composed. "Really? If I'm not mistaken, you speak of Allen Schezar, correct? The hero Knight of Heaven who helped save Gaea from a certain unspeakable end?" _Maybe I'm overdoing it_, she thought grimly. 

Celena cocked an eye. "For someone who has no memory of where they came from, you certainly know a lot about us," she commented sharply.

_Okay, so my role-playing needs work._ "Perhaps I do remember where I came from." Ayryn said with more mystery to her voice, "but it should not be revealed just yet."

Her eyes narrowed--was this girl now toying with her? The thought made her bristle indignantly. "This better not be some pathetic attempt to catch a glimpse of my brother," she warned, her blood boiling at the thought of all the "visitors" they'd been receiving lately. "Though you've come up with the most creative excuse yet."

"Do all your "visitors" dress in such foreign clothing?" Ayryn countered, equally indignant.

Celena cocked an eye. "Maybe not. But...I wouldn't think it impossible." She continued on, thinking. "You're obviously not a servant, so don't bother trying to act like it anymore."

"You're right. I'm not a servant." said the girl haughtily, "So what led you to believe that I wasn't?"

"Your attitude, of course." She smiled a bit. "Somehow, you remind me a little of myself. But I'll warn you," she went on loftily, "if this is some prank, I'll have you gutted."

_Gutted_, Ayryn thought as she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, _what a lovely thought._ "I'll - keep that in mind." she took a breath and braved herself for the next question, "So, how is your brother?"

Celena's eyes flashed to her sharply. Quickly she calmed herself--this girl was a stranger. She wouldn't know. "He's...been better. But he's been worse." She said no more than that, leading her guest into the house through the servant's entrance.

"Better?" she looked confused for a moment. _What part of the story am I at, anyway?_ Her heart slowly began to sink at the thought but denied it before she saw anything. "Well, I should hope he's doing well. Ah, the servant's entrance. And yet I'm not a servant. Quite the entourage you're becoming." She flashed Celena a smile.

"It's the fastest way in," Celena replied with a shrug. "Besides, it's from here that we're going to find you a new wardrobe." She smiled prettily, and called out to one of the young maiden's scampering about. "Jeyla, will you fetch a dress for our guest? Thank you."

The strange girl ended up trailing behind Celena, looking about the house wide-eyed as they passed through. She hardly noticed when Celena was finished giving orders to the maid and turned to face her. She grinned sheepishly. "You have a lovely home, Lady Celena." She looked up, "High ceilings..."

Celena couldn't help a small, proud smile. "It's been in our family for generations. You're welcomed to look around, if you want." A moment later the servant girl returned, and handed Ayryn a pale blue maid's gown. Celena thanked her. "Well, I'll take you to one of the guest rooms, so you can get changed," she offered. "I can have a bath prepared, if you like." She was only making the effort because she knew Allen would have, though she made her voice sound polite.

Ayryn took a moment to examine the gown, smiling almost childishly. A real, hand-made gown! It wasn't full of frills and ruffles but it was at least her favorite color. "Lovely. Yes, this would be very nice. I thank you, Celena." She curtseyed briefly. "And a bath is not necessary. I had one this morning." _I wonder what they do for shampoo_, she thought as she followed the tall, pale haired girl down a hallway to a guest room.

She seemed so happy--it was only a maid's gown. Perhaps she was lower in status than Celena had first anticipated. Her strange clothing and face-paint--could she, perhaps, be a brothel girl? The thought made her flush, and she quickly turned her eyes forward. She didn't know much about things--what if Allen could tell, and would become upset with her for inviting such riff-raff into their home? But, how would Allen know a brothel girl by her looks? What if he DID? Celena bit her lip, now very confused and distraught, though she tried to hide it. "It's nothing, really. And stop curtseying. It doesn't matter to me."

Ayryn frowned, raising a finger knowingly. "Right. No curtseying. I'll remember that. Uh - should I curtsey to the master of the house hold then?" She silently growled at herself, _I could've sworn I had this medieval manner thing down. I'll have to work on it_.

"The first time," Celena replied somewhat distractedly. "But knowing my brother, he'll most likely tell you it's unnecessary." She continued to fiddle with the hilt of her sword all the way down the hall, and at last indicated an unoccupied guest room. "Here you are. I'm going to tell my brother you're here--wait here for me."

Ayryn nodded once, thanking Celena quietly before entering the room. She changed very quickly, throwing her clothes on the floor and slipping the dress over her head. She looked down at the ties and remembered to lace the bodice up instead of down. "Renaissance Faire comes in handy." She said, smiling to herself when she finished.

Celena returned shortly, her thoughts a bit disorganized. Allen had agreed to meet her--she was surprised, as he'd been adamant about discouraging them of late. Perhaps it was a good sign.... She tapped lightly on the door. "Ayryn? Are you prepared?"

"Yes." She said lightly, straightening her sleeves and smoothing her dress when her eyes caught the laces of her bodice. She almost panicked. Was it up or down? Oh, no! What if I did it the wrong way...too late. The door slowly opened and Ayryn stood in front of it, trembling terribly.

Celena eyed the girl carefully, and tried to keep her face from contorting into a look of profound irritation--her bodice had been laced UP. Perhaps she truly was a brothel girl after all...but it was too late, as her brother awaited them. "It looks good on you," she said lightly, noting with increasing annoyance that the bodice, whichever way it was laced, accented her feature very well. "Come on--Allen's waiting." She started away curtly before waiting for a response.

"Of course." She swallowed, fidgeting with the laces absently. She was very nervous and the way Celena glared at her didn't help. She made a mistake. . . you're supposed to lace it downwards so that your breasts are exposed last when the laces are untied. She could've slapped herself but instead clenched her jaw and followed Celena once more.

Celena led them down the hall, through the corridors to the study where Allen awaited. She paused with her hand on the door. "Ayryn," she said quietly, hoping that he wouldn't hear from the inside. Her eyes shone seriously. "Please, be considerate to him." Without another word she twisted the handle and opened the door, indicating that she should enter.

One would think that the master of such a large estate, a young one no less, would be - more out and about, per say. Ayryn obeyed Celena and entered the room quietly. "Sir Allen..." she began.

Allen glanced up from the book he'd been reading, slipping a thin slip of ribbon to mark his page. He was dressed in a simple, three piece suit of light blue, his hair tied loosely back to keep it from his face. He was as elegant and handsome as any of his female admirers would have attested to, and yet there was a sadness in his flashing sapphire eyes. The reason for this was clearly seen--or rather, not seen--with the folded, empty sleeve on his right side.

She felt a rush when she saw that. It wasn't elation like before. It was incredible guilt. "Oh, dear." She found herself whispering, quickly regaining composure and curtseying. "Forgive my intrusion to your - estate." She stammered. She argued with herself whether she should say more, her jaw working in her uncertainty.

Allen nodded vaguely, looking his guest over. She certainly wasn't as odd as her sister had described her, but then, perhaps it was the change in attire. "It's all right," he told her, waving her further inside. "Celena explained everything to me. You're quite welcomed here."

Ayryn stepped closer, gazing at his handsome face. It was certainly something more to behold in person. "I - I am?" she asked uncertainly, "Your sister explained to me that visitors have been - well, looked down upon lately. It only surprises me that that should not hold true for me." You're jumping ahead of yourself, she thought and quickly curtseyed humbly.

"Most of my visitors lately have come for...a different purpose," he admitted, unable to hide a certain tone of bitterness. They'd come to gawk, was more like it. "Besides, she tells me you arrived most mysteriously." A smile quirked his lips. "And I have a feeling there's more to it than simple amnesia. Care you explain?"

"Do I care to explain?" Yes, was her immediate thought. She fumbled around words, trying to figure out what she should say. I'm from the Mystic Moon . . . but that's not it at all! I'm from Earth but a different Earth and that explanation will just confuse everyone. Poor guy, she though, glancing sadly at his injury, I'm really mean to him. Ayryn stood there, not realizing how much time went by as she mumbled incoherently. She looked into his eyes again, taking a breath. Here goes nothing. "I'm from across the ocean. My country is called Sirivus. I was - travelling by sea when a storm caught our ship."

Allen blinked slowly, clearly not convinced. "Miss Ayryn," he said evenly, "I'll warn you that I'm quite a good judge of character. There is no country across the ocean called Sirivus. And you're in excellent condition for someone having survived a shipwreck." He lifted an eyebrow. "You can try a different story, if you like."

Her breath caught in her throat. Okay, so Dungeons and Dragons won't work here. She closed her eyes. "I'm from Earth." She said quietly.

He smiled, as if having anticipated that answer all along. "The Mystic Moon," he said quietly, resting his chin on the back of his curved palm. "Thank you, for telling me the truth. I once knew someone from your same world." His voice took on a soft, nostalgic tone. "I often wondered about what a place it might have been. Perhaps you'll tell me sometime."

"Uh - if you like." She stumbled over her words again as she did with her curtsey. "But, if it all right with you, Sir Allen . . . as far as everyone else is concerned, I'm from Sirivus." She tried for a hopeful smile.

"Of course--we couldn't go around telling everyone you're from the Mystic Moon." Allen titled his head to the side curiously. Even in those simple gestures and smiles, he still looked sad... "You seem to know something about Gaea, Ayryn. I was under the impression that your people were unaware of us. Was I wrong?"

"No, no." Oh, geez, how do I explain this one? She shook her head and smiled at him again. "Just call me intuitive."

Ah, full of secrets, this one. Just like Hitomi had been--were all those from the Mystic Moon fortune tellers and soothsayers? What an interesting society they must have, everyone knowing everyone else's future....or perhaps, how boring. "All right, then. In any case, I'm afraid I really don't know how to send you back to your world. Until we can devise a way, you're welcomed here."

"Begging your pardon, sir." She began softly, "But I do not wish to go back. You need not concern yourself with such efforts. And I thank you, humbly, for your welcome."

Allen straightened somewhat in his chair. Did not wish to go back? He hadn't expected at that at all. "Well, then," he said a bit awkwardly. "It's your business, so I won't pry. Is there anything you require? Something to eat, perhaps?"

"No, I'm not hungry." she waved her hand dismissively before she stopped and gazed at him again. "I'm - I'm sorry to hear about your injury. It must have been a great loss to Asturia - to lose their most valuable knight." You're rambling on again, she thought, cringing at what she must sound like to him.

Allen's kind visage faltered briefly at her abrupt change in subject, and the ease in which she spoke of his..impairment. "Yes, one could say that," he murmured distantly, escaping her gaze. "I suppose it is no more than fate's will."

"I'm sorry." she whispered, seeing how hurt he was. It effected her much more than just reading about it. "Well, I was wondering actually. . . if you wish to discuss more - things - with me? Perhaps go for a walk?" She shrugged, wanting only to speak with him now.

Allen turned back to her, his interest genuinely perked. It had been a while since he'd simply....walked. To even leave the manor was to risk becoming a spectacle. But she seemed like an earnest, kind young woman, and he had to admit that he could use the company. "All right. That would be fine." He set his book aside and stood, smiling. 

"Wow, your tall." She said softly, mostly to herself. She stared up at his full height, guessing that he was a whole foot taller than she was. She grinned sheepishly at him. "Eh - That suit is very becoming of you." Isn't the man supposed to give YOU compliments, not the other way around?

Allen grinned, somewhat surprised by her compliment. "I thank you. If you're going to be staying for a while, perhaps we can find something for you more suitable than a maid's gown, hmm?" He smiled to show that he was only kidding, and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

"Oh, yes. Of course." She said politely, slowly taking his arm and smiling up at him. "You're very trusting of strangers, you know. We've only just met." Well, you've just met me but I've known you for quite sometime. I practically wrote your life - parts of it anyway.

"Perhaps it's my weakness for a lovely young lady," he admitted, feeling a bit of his old spirit return to him. It was something new for him, to be in the presence of a lady who was not staring at his right side, trying to sound interested with him when she was only searching for a charming tale for her friends.

"Lovely indeed." She mocked herself, "I've been known to have more rugged and abrupt features. And I'm not very delicate so I guess calling me a lady isn't right. Your sister, on the other hand, is very pretty and her features more delicate than anything I could wish for. I have to admit that I'm envious of her. You must be proud of her."

"Yes, I am. Though I still think you shouldn't be quite so modest." He led her outside the study, down the hall. "I am a gentleman who only speaks truth."

"A knight by heart as well, I'm willing to bet." She winked. They were led outside, walking amid trees and up a hill close to where she woke up. "Well, now. This is certainly a pleasant sight to behold. The smell of flowers in the air, blue skies, good company. I could live the rest of my life like this."

Allen looked down at her curiously. "I'm a bit surprised," he murmured. "True, it is beautiful country, but are you so eager to leave your own? Surely you have a home to go back to....?"

"Not really." She said, sitting down in the grass and enjoying how her dress fluffed about her with the sudden catch of air. "There's nothing there for me. This is much better than anything I could have hoped for."

He seated himself beside her, still a bit concerned. "Nothing? No home, no family?" He found this very hard to believe--even in his most desperate times, he had always sought out Asturia, his home, his country.

"Well - sure. But," she sighed, looking down at her hands, "I don't know. I live with my uncle. Moved out from my mother's house because she went crazy. Married a stoic ass and moved away from the house I grew up in. I couldn't stand the man courting her so I left. I have a sister. I'll miss her but she'll be all right. As for my uncle - he's better off without me around anyway."

Allen sighed quietly, his face showing genuine sympathy. "I'm sure they would miss you more than you realize," he murmured, saddened by her ease in escaping her family, no matter the state of disarray. "You can never know the minds of those you leave behind."

"So, let them miss me. I'm probably better off here." She looked at him, seeing his concern and sighed. "But I thank you for your concern. Don't worry."

Allen nodded, content to trust in her decision. They had just met, after all, and he had no right to force his advice upon her. Yet still...he felt for those that she was abandoning. "So...do you have any idea of how you were able to get here?" he asked, changing the subject to something more pleasant.

"Not really. It's very strange. One minute I'm asleep, then next I'm three inches away from my life being cut short by steel." She laughed softly, "Kind of funny, actually. I don't think Celena likes me. Which I can understand, a strange girl like me intruding on property own by a very handsome young man..."

Yes, Allen was definitely starting to feel more like himself. He tried not to look too pleased. "Oh, I'm sure she's just wary--she doesn't, after all, know the true circumstances of how you came here. I'm sure she'll be all right as soon as we explain everything to her."

Ayryn studied him a moment, gazing intently at his handsome face. It was so forlorn that it tore at her heart and briefly debated telling him more of the truth. Perhaps later would be more appropriate. She smiled slightly and the wind blew gently and tugged at his blond hair. "I mentioned earlier that you're very trusting of strangers. And you are. Not a half hour ago did I arrive here, by whatever means, and here we are, chatting as if we were old friends. You don't know me. All you know is that I'm from the Mystic Moon. Perhaps this has something to do with your interest in me? Actually taking the time to go outdoors?"

Allen was momentarily taken aback--could she tell that he hadn't been outside lately? It just seemed so...pointless to subject himself to being in front people. They all stared so horribly. He gathered himself quickly, however. "Actually, I once knew someone from the Mystic Moon. Maybe...you remind me of her a little."

"You had said that earlier as well." She cocked her head, taking another moment to study him. "Don't you find it strange that I know so much about you and your sister and Gaea itself? Isn't it out of the ordinary that a perfect stranger would feel so comfortable conversing with one such as yourself after having just met?"

"I suppose it is a bit strange," he admitted. Why was he so compelled to trust her? "But then, I've known quite a few...open-minded women. I'm used to it by now. And as for your knowing quite a bit about Gaea..." He raised an eyebrow. "I am a bit curious."

"Damn." she cursed to herself, "I was afraid of that."

Allen chuckled at her open profanity. Any other knight or noble would have been offended, but he knew better. "As I have offered you my hospitality, it would be only appropriate, don't you agree? And don't worry--I have quite an imagination."

"You'll need it." She sighed. "I'm not sure if it's such a good idea to tell you. At least, not yet."

"I don't see how any other time would be better," he replied knowingly.

She moved closer to him, feeling her heart sinking further as she looked at him. He sat there, flesh and blood and as real as anything she's ever seen. She began to stare intently at his right side, words choking in her throat. I can't believe I've done that do him. "No more words," she whispered, "Now it's reality..."

Allen regarded her curiously, catching the strange tone in her voice. He followed her gaze and seemed to understand, unconsciously shifting to obstruct her view of his right side. "I beg your pardon?"

"How did you lose your arm, Allen?" She asked softly, her face mirroring her tone. She moved to put a hand on his right shoulder, feeling the fabric, moving her hand down the folded sleeve.

Allen jerked away from her suddenly--no one but Celena had yet to touch the stump that had once been his right arm, his very life. He frowned at himself. "I'm--I'm sorry," he murmured, escaping her gaze. Why should she express such sympathy and pain for him? She barely knew him....didn't she? "It was....a duel. I lost my arm in a duel."

"It was a mistake, wasn't it?" She asked, feeling her hands trembling. She thought she could stop the nervous reaction if she held them together tightly but the blood still coursed through her veins furiously. She felt light headed as she continued like this but there was nothing more she could do.

"...Yes. But then, no one ever plans for these things...." He turned his head upwards, as if inspecting the summer sky. But.. at least he was outside. He was speaking to her about it. He sighed--it was almost calming, in a way.

Ayryn could help a small smile when he said that. "That's - actually rather amusing. . .And is the sky really all that interesting?"

"I don't see what's so amusing about it," Allen replied somewhat petulantly. He shifted, chose to ignore her last remark.

"Well," she humphed, "Excuse me for finding amusement where it's not welcome."

"It happens to be a matter of some sensitivity with me. I'd appreciate your discretion." All the same he turned to face her once more. "Why does it sound like you already knew?" he asked, trying not to sound accusing.

She simply smiled at him. "I'm fourth generation psychic." She bowed her head as if being introduce to him all over again. "And no, not everyone on the Mystic Moon is a fortune teller. We're a special breed."

Allen hmphed, wondering briefly what else she knew about him. How easily Hitomi had been able to pick all the secrets and worries from his mind... "May I ask how much you know about me already, then?"

"What would you like to know?" She asked merrily, her mood lifting abruptly with her prior declaration.

"How much you know about me," he repeated. "My past. My...future?" He felt a sudden eagerness, wondering what fate might have in store for him now. Or perhaps it was dread that raised his pulse.

"Your past? Oh, dear. Where should I start?" she raised a hand to her chin in contemplation. "Well, your father left to chase a dream, your sister - the one that can't stand me at the moment - was kidnapped by a very shadowy government." She sighed as if bored, "Your mother died of grief, you went off seeking death as a bandit, a man named Balgus took you in as a pupil of the sword, you won the heart of a rebel princess . . . should I go on?"

"No," he said quickly, "that's quite enough." How could she speak of it so openly? The very memories pained him so... "You certainly are a woman without shame," he muttered, wondering perhaps if he had been wrong to trust this stranger so soon. Knowing that she was so well-versed in his history unnerved him. 

She grinned. "I make you uncomfortable, do I? I know too much?" She stood from the grass and let the blades brush past her borrowed gown as she walked a few steps away from him. "You asked. And about that duel . . . it almost turned out differently."

"What do you mean?" Allen demanded, growing wary. He remained seated, watching her very closely.

"Well, if you hadn't intervened in the conversation - uh, that's what they call an exchange of blows in fencing - well, you're sister . . ." she almost didn't want to continue, for anticipation of reaction or pure discomfort she could not say.

Allen found himself on his feet before realizing he'd moved. "What? What about her?" His fist tightened at his side. If...what was she saying? His stomach was churning.

"Oh, what does it matter?" She turned, seeing that he had climbed to his feet and had to look up at him. "It didn't happen that way. What ever way it was."

"But..." Allen pursed his lips, told himself it was better to stay silent and let it be. He didn't want to know what she had been going to say. He didn't want that knowledge. "Maybe...we'd better go back inside."

"Yes, perhaps your right. I've had enough fresh air for one day." She moved next to him, expecting to be escorted back. "Make sure you tell me when I've overstayed my welcome. All right?"

"Of course," he replied vaguely. She had given him much to ponder, and he didn't think to take her arm as they started back toward the house. "You're welcomed to stay, since you have no where else to go."

Ayryn frowned when he didn't offer his arm to her. She pursed her lips and followed him. "I'm sure after a while I can establish myself. Maybe some sort of business in Palas. I am a seamstress, you know. Among other things."

"Oh? Then perhaps I'll have Celena take you into town sometime. There may be a shop where you can apply." 

"Celena?" she cringed at the thought. "Don't you want to take me instead?"

"I..." He hesitated. Surely she knew already--she knew so much--he thought with a bit of discontent. "I don't go into the town much anymore," he said simply.

"Stop! Would you stop!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. "You're walking too fast. I can't keep up."

Allen stared, unaware that he had been walking at anything more than a normal pace. He pursed his lips. "Sorry." He was at a loss for anything else, and glanced briefly at her hand on his arm. He lifted the limb in offering to her. "Shall we continue?"

She closed her eyes and sighed, taking his arm. "Yes, please." They started walking, his pace slower to keep with Ayryn's shorter strides. "Have you been to a ball yet?"

"Not since the accident." He was beginning to grow uncomfortable with her questions. He couldn't even attempt to supply a pleasant lie--would she know already? She was digging deeply into matters best left not discussed.

Ah, so it's before he goes to see Millerna. I'm half tempted to take over her role in the story. . .He is after all supposed to be like Denevive. That's how Daniel explained it. Only Allen has blonde hair instead of brown. It's almost the same though so - why not? She sighed and smiled. "Not to worry, Allen. I don't know everything. I can't tell what you're thinking right now, for instance. But I do know that you're so dreadfully uncomfortable with everything we've discussed. I just hope you forgive me for being presumptuous and I hope you'll still want to speak with me."

If Allen was surprised by her apology, he didn't show it. "It's...all right, Ayryn. I suspected you would have many questions." He now had much to consider, thanks to her. He wasn't sure if he should be pleased for it.

She pulled on his arm and forced him to stop before they entered the house. "I still do have questions. What of Millerna?"

He'd feared that, and turned to gaze at her evenly. "What of her?" he asked, showing in his eyes that he'd prepared for this. He didn't want her to catch him unawares again.

"The youngest princess of Asturia? Now crowned Queen because of her father's death. Her older sister Eries refused the crown. Millerna still loves you dearly but - is it love or pure infatuation?" She raised an eyebrow. "And do you love her back?"

"That is very much none of your business or concern," he rejoined tersely. "You may know much about me, Ayryn, but don't assume that entitles you to anything. I'll ask you to mind your own matters above mine, thank you very much. Now, may we?" He nodded toward the awaiting household.

"No. You can. I'm going alone." She gave him a sour look as she headed toward the house herself, almost running towards the servant's entrance. "Bastard. Just who does he think he is, anyway? I never wrote him like that." She entered through the slim doorway and found herself in the large kitchen. A plump little cook was happily stirring at a pot on the stove. Ayryn gave her a slight smile before saying, "You must be Mallie."

Mallie glanced up curiously from her work. "Oh, um, hello there, Miss," she greeted somewhat awkwardly. "Yes, I am. Are you perhaps a friend of Lady Celena's? I'd not heard we were expecting company."

"Yes, well. I just arrived today. I'm more of an acquaintance than anything but they were kind enough to take me in until I can settle down in Palas." She flashed a smiled at her before stepping up next to her and staring down into the pot. "So, what's for dinner?"

"Nothing all that fancy, I'm afraid," the woman replied heartily. "Since I wasn't expecting you. It's Pheasant Stew, miss. And we're to have herb potatoes, water-berry and fresh vegetables. Is there anything else you'd like to have?"

"Engleberries." She said with a smile, holding back a snicker. "I'm sure Allen would love some of that on his plate."

Mallie lifted an eyebrow curiously. "Sorry, Ma'am, but we don't keep many engleberries around, and Master Allen might have my head if I served them." She couldn't help but smile herself.

"It was worth a shot." She winked at the cook. "But everything you've described sounds just fine to me. I can't wait. Is Misshel around? I've heard much about him and wished to meet him."

"Oh, that little rascal?" she said with a laugh. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere, probably with Lady Celena. You could try the stables."

"Oh?" She smiled widely. "Do you think they'll let me ride? It's been so long since the last time I've ridden a horse."

"I don't know, Ma'am. It would be up to Lady Celena." She shrugged and returned to her cooking. "I'm sure she wouldn't be against the idea, though."

"Thank you." She bid her a brief farewell before starting out once more towards where she thought the stables would be. I always said they were down a hill on the right side of the manor. Ayryn ran towards that place and found nothing but trees and fields, being able to see a road from around the house that led to the front of the manor. In the far distance, a little bit of the sea horizon could be seen. But no stables.


	2. Part 2

"Where are they?" She turned around and started up the hill, away from the house. There it was, a little barn-like building on the hilltop. It was more out of the way than she thought. She pulled open a large door and peered inside the musty stables. "Hello?" She called.

The sound of voices stopped at her call, and there was silence for a moment. Celena was seated on a small bench along the wall, working thick polish into the leather of her saddle. Across from her, grooming a beautiful gray mare, was a tall, gangly boy with rusty-red, curly hair that must have been Misshel. He glanced up curiously, but it was Celena that answered. "Yes?"

"Oh. You're here too..." She entered, closing the large door behind her before approaching the duo. "I came to see the horses. I like horses. Polishing saddles?" She tried for a smile but failed when she was met with Celena's apathetic stare. "Can I help with anything?"

"Not if you don't know how," Celena replied, trying to sound light but coming out somewhat disdainful. "Thank you, anyway, but you're a guest, so I couldn't possibly ask." She returned to her work. "Did you have a nice chat with my brother?"

"Oh. Uh - yes, I suppose." She took a breath and sat down next to Celena as the other girl worked. "He gets upset very easily."

Celena shot the girl a sharp, questioning glance. "Well, he can hardly help it," she said. "Considering what he's been through." She wondered what exactly had taken place, and what the stranger had said.

"He's been through a lot, I can tell." She looked at Celena and gave her a small smile. "He's very nice though. For the most part. He's letting me stay until I get settled in."

"Oh. Lovely. It'll be nice to have a another girl around." She smiled, but it was a somewhat empty gesture. "Allen's always been very generous by nature. He's been wonderful to me." 

Misshel cast the pair a wide-eyed look before puffing his cheeks and returning to his work.

"Yeah, and you seem like a nice person. Let's be friends then, okay?" She grinned, knowing Celena's true feelings.

Celena paused, turning to glance Ayryn blankly. "Why are you being like this?" she asked abruptly. "You barely know me. How do you know what I'm like?" There was, however, no bitterness in her voice this time. Just curious exasperation.

"I explained this to your brother too. I'm psychic. Fourth generation to be precise. I know plenty about you." She smiled. "We could practically be sisters with how alike we are. And I was actually hoping if you could teach me some sword fighting. That would really make my day!"

Celena laughed sharply, though she was a bit wary to hear that the girl might have some magic-like ability. She wasn't very comfortable around such fate-related things, understandably enough. "Sword fighting? Indeed! You know, it takes a long time to learn even the basics of holding a sword."

"How long? I bet I can learn." She lifted her chin arrogantly.

"I've been training for almost two years," Celena replied with no little amount of pride. "I'm almost as good as Allen, now." She didn't mention, however, the years of former experience she'd had as a Dragonslayer. Whether or not she remembered that ear of her life, there were times when she could tell that her body did. "But most of the first year is basics and endurance training. It's exhausting, really."

"Fine. If you don't want to." She sighed and stood, looking around from something to fidget with and smiled when she found three small round weights, all about the same size. "I can teach you to juggle." She deftly demonstrated the useless talent with the weights.

Celena's face reflected only mild interest. Misshel, however, looked enchanted. "Tha's pr'y good, Mum," he said, grinning. "Can'ye teach me?" He glanced at his mistress. "If's a'right, 'course."

"Oh, sure." She caught the weights easily and began showing Misshel the basics in juggling. "You know, Celena. Anyone can do this. Even your brother."

Celena frowned, not sure if she was being serious or not. "It's a little tedious, isn't it?" she asked, though it was amusing to watch Misshel struggle with the weights.

"It passes the time." She smiled as Misshel dropped the weights in his third attempt at the feat. "It also amuses children like you can't believe."

"I don't really have a use for amusing children," Celena said, though she was smiling now genuinely at the thought. "But it certainly is amusing Misshel."

Misshel grinned sheepishly, but kept at it. "'S harder'n it looks, Mum."

"Try using just two since your starting out." Ayryn told Misshel. "It took me a week. But then again, I was adamant. My dad could always juggle or do something useless and stupid that I couldn't. Like wiggling his ears. But, HA! I showed him! I can juggle AND wiggle my ear now."

Misshel laughed, and did as she suggested, slowly getting the hang of it. Celena continued to polish the saddle as she watched, starting to warm up a bit. Though she was still concerned about whatever had transpired between the girl and her brother, it would be easier--or more reliable--to ask him directly later.

"Oh, and Celena?" She gave Misshel the weights so that he could practice while she sat next to the pale-haired girl. "I was wondering. Do you think you need a seamstress on the premises?"

"A seamstress?" Celena repeated, a bit confused. "Well, I usually just take my things to the shop in town." She raised an eyebrow. "Can you sew well? If you're staying, I suppose you might as well earn a bit of it," she added, smiling.

"Great. Then it's settled. I'll be your personal seamstress. I design as well. If you'd like, I could sketch some of my ideas for you. I'm sure they would all look lovely on such a slim, tall figure." She smiled sincerely, hoping to gain her trust - if not her kindness.

The compliment was another added surprise, and Celena couldn't help but smirk, a bit self-conscious. "Well--all right, then, it is settled. I'll have to check with Allen, of course, but I'm sure he won't mind." She placed the saddle aside so that she could stand and offer her hand. "Friends?"

Ayryn stood as well, stumbling a bit as her foot caught the hem of her dress as it was meant to be for someone taller than herself. She quickly caught her balance and smiled bashfully as she offered her hand. "Friends." She agreed.

Celena shook her hand firmly, then returned to her spot and her work. "I suppose first off you'll want to make something for yourself," she said brightly. "We can get you the material--it's no trouble. After that we'll see what's required."

"Thank you." She said. "I'll be going back to the house then and see about picking up the clothes I left strewn about my room." She started for the door.

"Ayryn," Celena called after her to halt her. She faltered briefly. "Please, be kind to my brother," she said in a softer tone.

"What makes you think I won't?" Ayryn asked curious, turning to face her again.

"It's not that," she said quickly. "Just...he's finally getting a little better. He doesn't need to be reminded of all that." She glanced away. "He's gone through so much...I just worry about him."

"Of course, Celena. It's understandable. You're his sister and - you would do anything for him." She added in a softer tone, "Even risk your life in a duel." She left with that said, starting back towards the house in a near sprint. She desperately needed to get these blasted contact lenses out.

"Ah." She sighed in relief and she took out the bothersome little lenses from her eyes and threw them out. She reached over the dresser and paled when she forgot she didn't have her glasses waiting there for her. "Oh, no!" She shrieked, running to the wardrobe she put her clothes in, looking through her jean pockets. They weren't there. Ayryn suppressed a sob but tried her best to buck up. They had spectacles here, after all. She could just get new ones. But - she'd be blind as a bat for a while. Swallowing, she left her chambers to venture downstairs for dinner.

She could hardly see anything, not being able to recognize familiar halls or doors she had passed before. She stumbled along blindly through a corridor, her nose taunting her as the aroma of Pheasant stew filled her nostrils. "Is anyone here?" She finally called out.

Allen glanced up at the sound of her voice. "Yes?" he called, rounding the corner to find Ayryn stumbling about. "Are you all right?"

"Allen?" She squinted, trying to see him in vain. At least his voice was enough identity for her. Her arms were up, making sure she didn't collide into anything as she stumbled towards him. "I'm afraid I can't see." She laughed a bit.

"Can't see?" he repeated, confused. He touched her hand so that she could tell where he was. "What happened?"

"Okay. Big blue pillar with blonde blur is Allen. I'll remember this." She said it mostly to amuse him in her struggle to see anything and took his hand firmly. "Well, they're called contact lenses. Items you might find a bit hard to understand. But usually I wear glasses - uh, spectacles."

"Oh?" Allen frowned. He himself had never needed them, and didn't know much about acquiring any. "Um...perhaps we'll have to get you some from the city. Can you manage until then?" He frowned, regarding her relative state of helplessness.

"Yeah, as long as I have a cane or seeing-eye dog." she said sarcastically. "I suppose I'll be fine. I have no choice anyway. I need you, though, to help me...Isn't dinner waiting?"

"Yes, if you think you...." He shrugged, and offered her his arm. "All right, then," he said. "I'll lead you." He started down the hall with her in tow.

As she was pulled along the unfamiliar hallways, she ended up staring at the floor or closing her eyes as the passing blurs made her dizzier than she would have liked to admit. "Do you own a piano, Allen?" I wonder if they even have such things...

Allen cocked an eye. Did this girl never run out of surprises? "Yes, actually, but it's been in storage for years. I don't know if it'll still play."

"Storage?" She almost gasped, looking up at him and finding it difficult to meet his gaze. "That's no way to treat such a precious instrument...No, no. If I'm to stay for a while, then it's to be tuned at once."

"What?" He knew almost nothing about music, or pianos and tuning and whatever. And who was she anyway, to make demands like that? "I suppose you play...?"

"Uh - yes, I do. Sort of...but it wouldn't feel right not to have a piano around. Besides," she smiled awkwardly, "I want to show off for you."

Yes, certainly a mystery. Allen smiled despite himself. "If you say so. But I've no ear for music."

"What? You don't care for it?"

"It's not that." He recalled fondly all the songs his mother used to sing for him and his sister as children. "Only, I'm spectacularly tone deaf, as Celena will tell you."

"I suppose all fighters are turned away from the musical arts. A pity, really." She shook her head, dismayed.

"I've simply never had the time." They reached the kitchen, where Celena was already waiting for them. "Well, here we are." He guided her to a chair and quickly explained the situation to Celena, who nodded, mystified.

Ayryn squinted at Celena's expression. "Why do I get the feeling you're enjoying this?" She asked with an awkward grin.

Celena smiled. "Oh, I was just wondering what a strange place you must have come from," she said. "To have invisible spectacles that you've lost."

"Ha ha." She said without humor. "Invisible indeed. You put them in your eyes. You can see them if you take them out. And you can't wear them for too long or they start bothering you. That's why I took them out in the first place." She looked at the girl indignantly before looking down at the bowl served to her by Mallie. She took in the scent of the stew and nearly drooled before taking the spoon and tasting it. It was - HOT! She yelped and forced herself to swallow, reaching for a glass of wine placed in front of her and gulping it down to calm her scorched tongue.

Allen and Celena both fairly gawked at her. "Well, wherever you're from, they certainly have interesting manners as well," Celena remarked dryly.

To this Allen smirked. "But then, it took my Celena some time to learn our Asturian manners anyway," he retorted.

Ayryn, when her fit passed, smiled at Celena as if gloating. "I bet it was hard for a tomboy to learn manners in the first place."

Celena snorted indignantly, but Allen couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, you've got a point there," he laughed. Celena made a face and devoted herself to her dinner.

Ayryn turned her gaze to Allen after she saw Celena keep quiet. "About the piano thing . . . I didn't mean to be so - bossy. Forgive me. And also the whole Millerna thing . . ." She shook her head, hoping no more needed to be said.

Allen straightened faintly, and Celena glanced between them sharply, suspicious, but he shook he made a small gesture to indicate he'd explain later. "It's all right, Ayryn. I understand. You've every right to be curious." He paused to take a sip from his stew. "Just, remember what I said," he added, not trying to sound warning or accusing, just patient.

She sighed, her hands folded in her lap as she stared down at her stew again. The spoon was still in the bowl, steam rising up and collecting on the metal. She watched it for a long time without ever noticing any conversation at this dinner table. She bit her lip, looking up at the brother and sister. Allen, struggling to hold the spoon correctly in his left hand and Celena - casting glares at her. . . "So - how was everyone's day?" She cringed as her voice broke the silence rather strangely but it was too late.

"You were here for most of it," Celena said with a shrug. "Probably the most exciting thing that's happened in a while. Oh, I forgot. Allen, Ayryn wants to stay on as our seamstress."

"Ah, that's right. We discussed this." He cocked his head. "Will you have enough to keep her busy with?" he asked pleasantly.

"Busy?" She asked, almost dreading this line of questioning.

"Well, if you're going to stay here," he continued knowingly, "you'll have to be able to provide for yourself to some extent. Of course we'll supply materials and food and housing and all that, but you'll have to earn the rest." He nodded, as if assuring himself. 

"Okay. It sounds fair." She suddenly felt unsure about this seamstress business. "I promise to do my best." She blew on her stew, watching the steam dissipate with the breeze before taking a spoonful and being able to enjoy it this time.

"I know you will." Allen, too, returned to his meal, and Celena. Not long afterwards Celena questioned her brother on the studies he was doing, to which he happily replied. He'd spent quite some time reading in the study lately. But, as he said, it was interesting reading.

Ayryn heard this conversation and inquired, "What have you been reading lately?" Why don't I remember this part? she asked herself.

"Oh, nothing much," Allen said with a bit of a shrug. "A few literary classics from various countries. There's quite a collection in there, I'd never realized until now." He listed off a few titles which Ayryn didn't know. 

"I . . . see. And you've been doing nothing besides that?" asked the outsider curiously. "You haven't trained at the sword at all?"

Celena buried her face in her wine glass. Allen frowned only slightly. "No, I haven't. It...seems a bit foolish. Not that Celena hasn't tried," he added.

She repressed a smile when she saw Celena's reaction. "Well, where I come from, in fencing you must train with both arms equally so you are not dependant on solely one limb. Is it not the same here?"

"Naturally, it is the same. But...I don't think my condition allows for it." He continued to eat, clearly hoping that she would change the subject.

"Perhaps you should be a little more open minded." Ayryn suggested as if commenting on the weather. "Maybe you should stop feeling sorry for yourself altogether..."

"Maybe you should let him be," Celena retorted promptly, which earned her a glance from her brother. She lifted her nose and returned to her meal.

"I understand your concern," Allen said evenly. "But these are my own affairs. I'm sure you understand."

Ayryn gazed at Celena with a menacing, almost maniacal expression. "Oh, it would drive the ladies wild if they were courted by Allen Schezar, the brilliant one-armed swordsman. Wouldn't you say, Celena?"

"I say, mind your own business." Ayryn had seemed so kind a while ago, almost considerate. Why couldn't she leave well enough alone? If she couldn't convince her own brother of these things, what chance did a strange, suspicious girl have? "It's not a joke, whatever you think. You couldn't possibly understand--"

"That's enough, Celena," Allen intervened. "She's only trying to help."

"Yeah. See? Your brother understands. Why can't you?" She grinned at Celena mockingly.

Celena snarled and slammed her silverware on the table. "Why, of all the--" She cut herself off, seething. "Ungrateful brat," she snapped, pushing out of her chair. She was out of the dining hall before Allen could stop her, fists clenched and eyes blazing.

"Ungrateful? I'm very grateful. I'm so grateful, I don't know what to do with myself!" She raised her voice, yelling at Celena's retreating form and standing in her anger. She growled. "How the hell do you even deal with a little brat like that, huh?"

Allen raised his eyes to her; when he spoke, his tone was calm but very serious. "She's my sister."

After that night of dinner, which was promptly over after Ayryn retired to her own room in haste as well, her duties were given to her. Mostly by the other staff after Mallie had been told to put the girl to work. Not only would she be the seamstress but also another maid since they only had two in the entire house. They were more in need of that sort of position than anything. At first, Ayryn was a little put off but took it all in stride until Celena gave her more tasks based on her original position. Only a few days had passed and already she was busy as a bee, sitting in front of a pile of gowns for mending. She still wore her borrowed maid's gown that was too big for her. Not even enough time to make herself a proper dress. 

After pricking her finger for the third time, she through down a lavender satin gown and stormed out of her room for a break. Late afternoon sun streamed through hallway windows. It wasn't a bit comforting. She needed someone to talk to and she knew just the right someone too. A small, coquettish smile crossed her lips as she made her way downstairs to the study where she first met Allen. It was likely he'd be in there now and she knocked just in case.

"Come in," Allen called absently, replacing a worn text in its place on the shelf. It was as more difficult task than it ought to have been, without an arm to steady the already present books. He managed well enough and turned to face the door, curious.

The knob turned and the door opened ever so slightly, just enough to poke her head through. "Sir Allen?" She wasn't used to calling him master though he was the master of the household. Her pride simply wouldn't allow it.

"Oh, it's you." Allen selected another book and returned to his desk, setting the work aside. He gestured for her to sit nearby. "How have you been? Celena tells me she's been keeping you rather busy."

She entered, closing the door behind her as she went and sat where he had indicated. "Yes, well - that's putting it mildly." There were certainly a lot of books in here, most of them covered in dust. When was the last time someone bothered to clean this place. "You sure do read a lot. Maybe you should get out more."

"There is still a lot to read," he replied evasively. This was not the first time they had bantered about this topic, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but there were times when he almost enjoyed the dance. 

"I'm sure there is. But your skin is awfully pale. Really, you should go outside a little more often. My mother used to tell me the same when I stayed indoors all the time. It does a world of good, honestly." 

Allen smiled faintly. "Yes, I believe you. Perhaps I will." His fingertips drifted vaguely over the cover of his book. "Is there something you needed?"

Ayryn blushed and turned away her gaze, hoping her smile wasn't too obvious. "No, not really. Just - company, I suppose."

She was almost charming at times, when she wasn't hassling him like an overbearing aunt. His smile deepened despite himself. "Well then, I suppose I can oblige that much. The work isn't too much for you, is it? I know Celena's been in a bit of a...a mood, lately."

"You have an incredible talent for understatement." She grinned, standing again and waiting for him to do the same.

Allen regarded her curiously. "Leaving so soon?" he asked with an upturned, smug eyebrow.

"I was hoping you would copy my movements."

"Oh?" Allen rose to his feet, and straightened his posture. "Now what?"

"If you don't want to go outside for nice walk, I'll be perfectly happy staying indoors instead." She managed a smile. "I know I'm only a servant here but you honestly look like you could use a friend."

Perhaps she knew him better than he'd liked admit... Allen shrugged. "I suppose it would be nice to get out for a bit. Around the fields, perhaps." She would probably suggest to visit town, but he already knew his answer to that.

Ayryn examined his face and seemed to know what he was thinking; if she did, she didn't let on. "Aye, Sir Allen. That sounds right pleasant." With a smile, she held out her hand to him.

Allen folded her arm under his, smiling faintly as he led her out of the study. The season was so fair this time of year, it really would be a nice change to get outside for a bit. He wondered briefly what Celena would think if she saw them together again like this--she had been quite vocal, to her brother at least, about exactly how she cared for their newest guest. Allen, however, welcomed the distraction, despite how trying it felt at times.

They walked among the tall grass again like they had the first day she arrived not too long ago. So different from cities filled with paved streets and cars and human messing with nature in every way. "Allen? You're twenty two, right?"

"That's right," he said, and if he wondered of her age, he did not ask. Older than his sister, obviously, but by how much? And why did it matter?

"Well, don't you want to know how old I am?" She almost sounded dismayed when he didn't promptly ask the question in turn. They reached the hill and she sat under the tree, enjoying the shade and waiting for his answer.

"Oh, yes of course." He smiled down at her, and took a seat. "How old are you, then?"

"Well, try not to sound too interested." she turned up her nose but all in good humor. "I'm nineteen."

"Ahh..." Perhaps a little younger than he'd thought, but it was a good age. "At that age, I was at the Fort Castello. Seems like a long time ago, now," he murmured nostalgically. It had been some time since he'd seen his crew...

"They're all right." She said as if reading his mind. "They were worried for you but they're all going about their lives and waiting if their commander ever needed them again. They have a lot of respect for you, despite what you might think." She dared herself touch his hair, stroking it very gently.

"You are so mysterious," Allen murmured, shaking his head slightly so that his hair fell over her fingers. "But thank you. I'm glad to hear they are well."

"Yes. . .," she pulled her hand back, gazing intently at the ground. "I'm sorry for any trouble I've caused you, Allen. I never intended to be a burden on you or your sister. Although, lately I've been tempted to accidentally leave a pin in her dress..."

Allen couldn't help but chuckle. "You two are too alike. I'm not surprised you haven't been able to get along, to tell the truth. But you're no burden to us, Aryrn. We've a small family, and I do welcome the company."

With those words, Ayryn gained more confidence than before. She took his hand gently into her own. "I've always enjoyed your company, personally. Will you - could you take me into town? I've yet to go and I'm sure you could show me all the interesting things they have there."

Though Allen's pleasant expression did not falter, the sincerity behind it did, if only briefly. "I haven't been into town for some time..." he murmured, though obviously she knew this as well as he. "I don't know if I'd be a proper guide for you."

"I don't how that's possible. You're the most gallant of knights. I'll need a proper escort, after all." She winked.

"Yes, but..." Still he hesitated, unsure. "We're sure to get plenty of attention, to say the least..."

"Poppycock." She sniffed, "If you're worried about that, wear a cape or cloak of some sort. There's no one else here to take me and I'm in dire need of a new dress." She indicated several stains and rips from stepping on the hem constantly.

Allen frowned. "No--no, if I'm going to go, I'll go. I'll go as myself." He climbed to his feet, hesitated, his eyes skipping over the hills to where the outline of the palace stood out against rolling green. "But...if we go, Celena will want to come. It being...my first trip back." 

Ayryn stood as well, but didn't hide her frown when he mentioned Celena. "For goodness sake, does she have to come as well?"

"Yes, she does," Allen insisted. "She's my sister, after all. It's important to me." He offered his arm. "Shall we?"

"Yes." She said softly, beaten. After Celena was found and their carriage arranged, Ayryn took her first ride into the city of Palas. It was the grandest city in Asturia; it had to be since it was the capital. There were people everywhere and Ayryn watched wide-eyed from the windows, Celena regarding her curiously the whole way. 

The younger girl didn't know where Ayryn was really from, being that it was secret except to Allen and Ayryn. Needless to say, Celena found the other girl's behavior strange. When the carriage went no further, since they had reached a pedestrian only street, all three young people exited to walk about the bustling market place. 

"How exciting! My goodness, look at all the vendors! Oh, look! There's a dress-maker!" She pointed enthusiastically.

Allen chuckled at her enthusiasm, though already he was becoming keenly aware of the stares he was drawing. Though enough time had passed that nearly everyone knew and had lost the fascination in his accident, most had yet to lay eyes on Asturia's fallen hero. They took the opportunity now, and their half-hidden gestures and curious eyes were already making him wish he hadn't come. But Celena kept a tight hold on his hand, nudged him gently to urge him on.

Ayryn was walking along Allen's right side and she briefly looked up at his face to see how he was holding up. He was obviously getting self-conscious and she wished she could take his hand as well, had there been one on her side. But if there was, she wouldn't need to because that's whole reason behind his feelings. She shook her head and settled with laying an assuring hand on his shoulder. "We're almost there."

Allen's shoulders lifted subtly, startled by the contact. He forced himself to settle quickly. "I'm all right," he said, nodding as if to assure himself. He noted with some ill ease that the crowds were parting somewhat about them. "It's fine."

The shorter girl suppressed the urge to heave a large sigh of relief when they entered the small shop off to the side. The room was full of bolts of different colored cloth, lace, ribbons, dress forms with lovely made dresses on them. It was Ayryn's kind of shop. "There. We're okay now. Don't worry." She told Allen.

"I'm not worried," he retorted, a bit too sharply, and quickly checked himself. It did feel good to be out. If only he could ignore everything else...

Celena squeezed his hand reassuringly. "There certainly are some wonderful fabrics here."

"Oh, yes!" She agreed, silently thanking Celena for the change in subject. "I could make some very lovely gowns with these." She indicated pastel colored cloths and sheer materials. "Do you like embroidered ribbon, Celena? I love putting some on the cuffs of sleeves. Makes for very nice trimmings."

"Yes, it's lovely." Celena moved away from her brother reluctantly, and plucked at a roll of bright, lacey pink. "Maybe I'll hire you to make Allen a new suit," she laughed, winking.

"You've just read my mind." She told the other girl with a wide smile. She approached Allen. "What do you think of a nice black suit? With a long coat coming down to the knees and embroidered with gold at the collar and cuffs?"

Allen pursed his lips, trying to imagine what such an outfit would look like on him. "Black?" he echoed. He rarely wore anything save blue... "I'd look somewhat...roguish, wouldn't you say?" The thought seemed to please him very much.

"Roguish, my dear fellow," said Ayryn in a mock posh accent, "Drives ladies absolutely mad! You'll have them gathered at your feet!" She winked at him.

"He already does," Celena muttered, hands on her hips. She was smiling, though. "Fawning on him like cats in heat."

Allen frowned at her description. "I don't think it's all that bad," he said, straightening. 

"Uh - so, about my own dress..." she started nervously to intervene. "Do I get to choose one already made?"

"Whichever you like," Allen said, brightening.

"Really? Oh, this lavender one is very nice. Although," she stopped to think, "It's really not fit for a seamstress and maid...Perhaps something else. . ."

"Well, you might as well get something nice," he said with a shrug. "You never know...you might need it sometime." Celena glanced at him curiously, and he shrugged again.

"Thank you, Sir Allen." She went over to Celena, letting Allen roam about the other end of the shop. "Celena - your brother. He's so uncomfortable and sad. Do you think there's something we could do to cheer him up?"

Celena folded her arms, though she knew Ayryn was right. "I don't know," she admitted, glancing away. "I'm amazed you got him this far. If only there was somewhere we could take him....somewhere without many people."

"In Palas?" She asked.

"Somewhere--anywhere. Maybe..." She glanced about in vain. "Maybe down by the sea?"

"What's down by the sea? Sand and ocean. Is there a nice restaurant?"

"I'm sure we could find one." Allen glanced back in their direction, and she waved him over. "What do you think about lunch down at the beach?" she asked, smiling. "Down at Yyana's. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Allen smiled faintly. "Yes, it has." Yyana's was a small seaside cafe, quaint in its own way and somewhat secluded from the rest of town. "That would be fine. As soon as Ayryn chooses a dress, that is."

"Oh - right." She pointed to the lavender gown. "This one will suit be just fine." Arrangements were then made with the shop keeper to have several bolts of cloth, spools of ribbon and thread delivered to the Schezar estate. The dress was taken off the form and Ayryn promptly wore it, proudly displaying the material. She was lucky that it was just her size. 

Having endured more stares through the crowds, Allen and his two female companions went down to the south side of Palas where the docks were. Down on the beach, they continued on a wooden walkway that led to the out-of-place cafe. "Well, it's certainly a nice view at least."

Allen nodded. "Our mother took us here as children. To keep us out of trouble." He smirked at the thought, and shared a conspirative chuckled with his sister. "By the way, the dress looks wonderful on you."

Ayryn blushed profusely. "Thank you, Allen." Their lunch was spent wonderfully. Conversation between Celena and Ayryn mostly taken up about future gowns. It was a lovely outing by the seaside and Ayryn was saddened to go back home; at least, what was her new home. 

She couldn't sleep that night, laying in the feather mattress and thinking about how Allen had looked at her. It was still early in the night and she had to see him again. Carefully holding a candle, she padded over to his room just down the hall and knocked softly. She hoped he wasn't yet asleep.

Allen glanced up curiously at the knocking on his door. He was seated at his window, watching the moon's slow progress across the sky. He already knew who it was, somehow. "Come in," he called, letting his hair fall across his face.

Straightening her nightgown, she opened the door and entered. Without a word, she closed it and joined him by the window. "Good evening, Sir Allen."

"It's a little bit past evening," he replied with a smile. "Is there something on your mind?"

"I couldn't sleep. And - I still wanted to speak with you." She turned her gaze on him, admiring the handsome sight he made and couldn't help but reach out to touch the magnificent golden locks.

Allen lifted his head slightly, wondering what exactly it was about his hair that seemed to fascinate her. Not that he minded. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him that way.... "About today, you mean," he said quietly, watching the moon reflected in her eyes.

"Today?" she whispered, as if not understanding for a moment. "Oh. Right. Today." She took a step back, to distance herself. Maybe she was getting to close. "Yes, I - I had a grand time, today." She stuck her candle in an empty holder on the dresser.

"That's not what I meant." Allen turned his gaze back to the window. "I know you were trying to help. And I'm very grateful."

"I'm glad to help at all." She said truthfully, kneeling by his side. She couldn't stand to be away from him for too long. What was it about him that seemed to draw her towards him? She wanted to take his hand but realized she knelt on his right side, where there wasn't one to take. So she touched his knee instead. "If you ever need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask me." She looked up at him with a hopeful gaze.

He frowned slightly, but in his candle-lit features even that expression was charming. "Thank you, Ayryn. Though I wish I knew why you had such concern in me."

"I just do. I can feel the things you feel sometimes and it makes me feel partly responsible for what happened to you." She gave him a small smile. "Is it wrong of me to like you?"

Allen started to answer, then realized there was no way to without sounding either self-pitying or too conceited. He chuckled and shook his head. "How am I supposed to reply to that?"

Ayryn withdrew her hand and sat back on her legs, gazing at her joined hands in her lap. For a long time, she didn't say anything. She was afraid to speak to him all of a sudden. "Allen?" she began in a whisper, "Is it wrong of me to love you?"

Her words captured him. Allen raised his gaze to her once more, suddenly unsure. What had she just said? "Ayryn," he murmured, hoping the rest would come to him once his voice was in motion. But no further sounds came, not for some time. At last he managed to say, "We hardly know each other."

She shook her head, not daring to look at him. "I know - all about you. But you're right. You know nothing of me. I'm sorry. So terribly sorry." She managed to stand without too much trouble and tried to get to the door. Some part of her hoped he would stop her from leaving, but the other part just couldn't wait to escape.

"Ayryn, wait." Allen pushed out of his chair and pursued, stopping just behind her. "It's...well, I'm just a little startled." It was the truth. "But, I would like to know more about you." He fell awkwardly silent, wondering at the strange anxiety in him. This girl was affecting him oddly.

"What would you like to know? There's not much, I assure you." she turned and looked up at him. There were tears threatening to spill there but she couldn't let them; not in front of him.

"Well, I'm not sure," he admitted with a bit of embarrassment. "Just...I've only known you for a few days, it seems." He set his hand on her shoulder--she looked suddenly unsteady, unlike her usual self.

Automatically, the girl leaned into his hand, enjoying the touch. "It has been only a few days. I'm sorry, Sir Allen. I wish you could know me like I know you. This must be a great inconvenience, I'm sure." It seemed as if with those words she would have left but she didn't move. She truly felt - something for him. It must have been love.

Allen chuckled. "Hardly an inconvenience. But the hour is late." He squeezed her shoulder slightly. "I think we would both do well with some rest. But you'll come see me tomorrow after the afternoon meal, won't you? In the study?"

"Oh. Of course. Yes." She said immediately and tried to smile. "A goodnight to you, then."

"And to you as well. Take care." On a brief impulse he took her hand and kissed it, softly. He then recoiled a bit, awaiting her departure.

The kiss on her hand made her smile and she glanced back once with it before leaving his room.


	3. Part 3

Allen paged idly through the old text, frowning slightly. He found that his attention was very much elsewhere--either out the window, admiring the brilliant blue sky, or else on Ayryn. Suddenly she dominated all his thoughts. He wasn't quite sure what it was about her that made him so...anxious. But he found himself walking very quickly to lunch, and very quickly back, the girl in question on his arm. By God, how had he gotten himself into this?

"So - You wanted to see me after lunch. Right?" Ayryn began uncertainly, watching Allen's face and not sure what she was looking for anymore. She couldn't read him like she had been able to before. "Allen?"

"Yes? I mean, yes." He smiled slightly. "I thought it would be a good opportunity for us to chat a bit," he said as they entered the study. He guided her to chair, and took up an adjacent seating.

"Chatting is good." Ayryn assured, or tried to. "It about yesterday, isn't it? Listen, you can forget anything ever happened. I didn't say anything . . ."

"It's all right, really," Allen quickly interrupted. "I didn't mean to embarrass. Actually, I was hoping you could tell me a bit more about your world. There is so little I know of it."

Her mind was suddenly a whirlwind with thoughts, wondering where to start but not wanting to waste the time asking. Slowly, she began to describe the different things they had where she was from; vehicles the moved without horses, television sets, radio, computers. The last was a bit hard to describe to the flabbergasted Gaean but all was relayed with patience. She went into detail about the geography, her own country and the fact she was born foreign to the country she grew up in. An hour went by and she began to grow enthusiastic about all these things, relishing the reaction she got from Allen.

He listened with rapt attention, his eyes wide and boyish as he tried to imagine all the things she was explaining to him. It sounded like such a strange, wonderful place--bustling and lively and restless. He wasn't surprised that both she and Hitomi had come from such a place. At last he laughed out loud, and shook his head. "It sounds amazing. I certainly wish I could see it, once."

"Perhaps you will, someday. If I could travel from there to here, surely you could and I'm a no-body."

"Well, I'm not that much more than a nobody myself," he replied with a smirk. "But I think it would be a wonderful experience."

"So, was there anything else you wished to know?" She asked softly.

"I think you could probably speak volumes more of it all," Allen said, "but I'm well satisfied for now. Unless there was something else you wanted to speak of...?" he prompted, eyebrows raising.

"Yes. I think there's something you should know." She took a breath. "Remember my first day here? I mentioned the duel would have - ended differently?"

Allen's posture straightened immediately, and he watched her, a bit wary. "Yes," he said quietly. "What about it?"

"I never finished my sentence when I was first telling you. You hardly knew me and you would have surely thrown me out." She took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Had you not intervened - and sacrificed your arm - your sister would have been killed."

Allen's breath caught in his throat, and he leaned away from her, stunned. Celena would have...died? The mere thought caused his face to grow pale, and his lips parted without sound. At first he didn't want to believe. But Ayryn's face was sincere--he had no choice, because he trusted her. "What was it?" he asked quietly. "How as I able to change that fate?"

Ayryn was tempted to answer that question truthfully, to tell him that it was a change in the story. But how could he possibly deal with the fact that he's whole life is nothing but fiction. She shrugged, "I honestly don't know. One never knows what they can do for another. Because they love them enough to change fate."

Allen lowered his head. So it had been his choice all along--he had done this, for her. For his sister. He smiled, ruefully. "It was worth it," he whispered, though he suddenly sounded hoarse.

"You don't sound sure." She took his hand, reaching for and determined to hold it. "It was a very big decision. But you didn't know at the time, did you? What will you do? You can't just sit and read books all day. Have you thought about a plan, yet?"

"A plan?" he repeated, confused. "What do you mean?"

"What do you intend to do with your life now? You're not a knight anymore, are you?"

"No, I'm not." Why was she asking? She already knew that well enough. Allen looked away, uncertain. "And I don't know what to do. Everything I've ever held interest in is lost to me now."

"Just because you can't use a sword? I hate to break it to you, but you still can, though you don't want to. Your spirit for it is broken. And it's a shame too."

"Yes, yes it is. But there's nothing I can do about it now." He pursed his lips. "I...don't want to fight like this. I don't want to fool myself into thinking it could be that way. It can't be that way again."

"Like I said, your spirit's broken. But I'll have you know there's a famous legend where I come from. A swordswoman, lacking her right arm and still fights as furiously as ever." Okay, so it was a character in a video game. Like he's going to know. "She didn't give up. Not like you, anyway."

Allen's gaze sharpened on her. "I'm not a legend," he protested, somewhat hurt by her sudden accusation. "I'm only a man, Ayryn, who has lost something that was once sacred to me. I know you're trying to help, and I do appreciate it. But..." He sighed deeply, sadly. "I won't pretend. I won't put myself through that."

"Then there are still plenty of other things you can do. You can be a merchant, or some other type of businessman. Or you can go on being a gentleman of the court. You're family has enough money that you don't need to work."

"I could," he murmured. None of these options were pleasing to him, not after the time they'd spent at the market the day before. He could look forward to many more stares like that in the future, the thought of which made him shudder.

Just the look on his face was too much for her. It was so sad. All Ayryn wanted to do was make him feel better. Maybe make him feel loved and wanted. So without thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him gently on his lips.

Allen started, and remained quite still. She had....kissed him? He blinked several times, watching as she pulled back, his stomach twisting. Her lips had been warm and soft...quickly he extinguished those thoughts, and smiled at her. "What was that for?"

"You looked sad," she answered in a soft voice, looking at him through her long black lashes. She moved to kneel in front of him, taking his only hand in both of hers as she gazed up at his bewildered face. "I - wanted to make you feel better." She managed to smile, somewhat nervously as he continued to stare with a dumbfounded expression.

Allen's expression softened. He hadn't expected this--what was he to do now? He hadn't even considered the possibility that she might... "Thank you," he murmured, at a loss for anything more meaningful. "You've been taking care of me since the first day you came."

That's it? she thought. Against her will, her lower lip sort of stuck out in a pout and she squeezed his hand. "I . . ." she hesitated, wanting to say the words but afraid of what he might think. You can't give up on the opportunities when they arise so she finally decided to spout them out. She took in a deep breath, looking deeply into his eyes and touched his face. "I would give up everything - just to touch you, Allen."

Allen's hand was trembling a bit as he took hers, moving it away from his face. It hadn't been the first time someone had sworn as much to him, and somehow it didn't feel right, that she would remind him so much of another woman. "Ayryn," he said quietly. He desperately didn't want to hurt her, but...he wasn't sure yet, whatever he might have felt for her. "Still, we barely know each other. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I couldn't have been more sure of anything else in my life!" She knew there were tears in her voice and she hadn't meant to say such a thing so loudly. It was the fault of her emotions, her frustration in hoping that he would accept her but not able to know how he felt. "I . . . love . . ." She stood quickly and turned away. She couldn't finish that sentence. It wouldn't have been fair to him.

He looked away. He was too distraught and confused--he didn't want her to...to feel that way about him. Because how was he to know that she spoke truth, real truth? Women loved him. It was a mysterious kind of power he held, one that was not always welcomed, and it disturbed him to think that perhaps she was merely infected by infatuation. She was stronger than that, wasn't she? And even if she spoke from sincere affection, why? Why now, when he had nothing to offer her, when he was broken? 

It seemed that that very thought occurred to Ayryn just then and she forced herself to turn and face him once more. "You're afraid. Aren't you? That I might not really want you or that you can't be with me because of the way you are. I don't care that your hurt or different. Just - please know that. I care for the person you are. And that person is so beautiful. I wish you saw that in yourself."

"You don't know the person I am," Allen retorted, climbing to his feet. He couldn't let himself believe her, not that easily. "You may know everything about my past, but you learned such things unfairly. How is that real trust?" What a pitiful excuse. Did her declaration frighten him so deeply that he had to resort to these petty accusations?

"Why are you so bitter?" She demanded, raising her voice in frustration. "Don't you want to be accepted? Don't you want anyone to love you again?"

Allen sputtered helplessly on a response. No--he didn't--or did he? He hadn't even considered it, hadn't wanted to...because it seemed so impossible. He didn't want her to know that, even if she'd already spoken as much. "Ayryn, why must you always accuse me like this? I'm trying to learn to live like this. I'm doing all that I can--why won't you let me be?"

"Because I won't let you push someone else away. You already locked yourself up in a nice little sanctuary, away from the cruel world that you know will stare at you, commenting as you pass by and making you cringe every time you hear them or feel their eyes upon you. You won't give yourself a chance because you're afraid! I'm trying to help you not to be afraid anymore!"

Still accusing him. He glared back at her defiantly, as if he could deny the truth in her words that way. "You--what makes you think you can? You have no idea what this is like for me." Somehow, he was able to keep his voice low. "You don't understand any of it. And telling me you love me isn't going to fix anything."

If only she could stop shaking so much. Her confidence was just about spent, her hands growing clammy. Her eyes stung as she tried to force back tears but her voice could not help choking. "I didn't assume it would. I do love you just because I do. That is what drives me to help you."

No, no--it was wrong. Something in this was wrong. How could she be so sure? He had never been so certain. Allen shook his head, unable to accept her words. "Ayryn, you still don't understand. Whatever you think I am, I'm not. Even if I still had my arm, my old life, I wouldn't."

"Then what are you?" She found herself asking automatically, very softly as the tears finally fell. She was so ashamed of herself for crying. Her emotions overwhelmed her and she cursed them. They were the cause for all of this; they caused this whole mess.

"I'm..." Why was that question so hard to answer? Allen raised his chin slightly, pursed his lips. "I'm just a man, Ayryn," he said at last, truthfully. "I worry too much, I make too many mistakes...I care too deeply. And...." He sighed. "And I can't honestly return you affection. I'm sorry, I do appreciate all you've done for me, and I enjoy your company. You are a good friend to me. Do you understand?"

"Why can't you return my affection?" Damn these tears! Maybe she would have sounded more confident, more convincing had they not cursed this attempt to win Allen's heart. There would be no one else if it wasn't him and she was nearly sure of it.

Allen took a deep breath--he hadn't wanted to say these things to her, but there was little choice. She wasn't going to back down. "Because part of me still loves Millerna," he answered truthfully. "I haven't seen her since the accident--I don't expect her to have kept any of her feelings for me, but it would be unfair of me, if I returned your feelings falsely."

"How could you possibly love her when she feels nothing but infatuation for you!?" She reeled. She couldn't believe her own story was being thrown back into her face! The power of the author was growing once more inside of her. "I should have written her to - to run away from this kingdom! Damn me!" She turned, facing away from Allen so that she could properly scold herself. "I had to write her character in the whole thing, didn't I? I could have avoided it but no, I had to write her in! She doesn't even know herself about her love! Damn this story!"

Allen stared at her turned back, his brow furrowing in confusion. Story? What was she talking about? Should have written...? He stepped forward, touching her shoulder. "What are you talking about?" he said sharply. There was a strange apprehension growing in his gut. 

She turned abruptly at his touch, her gaze stern and serious. "Your life is all a work of fiction. This particular story was written by yours truly. With the help of a dear friend of mine as well."

"A work...of fiction?" Allen repeated, taking several steps back as if physically assaulted. "Written? What are you talking about? What do you mean, 'this story'?"

What had she just done? Frustration had controlled her to the point of bluntly revealing the truth and she didn't even get to do anything beneficial yet! She'd just ruined everything she had planned because of her impulsiveness. "Allen, wait - let me explain." she said when she saw him taking several steps backwards. "I - I meant . . . this book here that I was looking at on the shelf! I read it before and liked it so much that I wrote a continuation." As if he's going to believe that after you've just spilled the beans.

"That has nothing to do with Millerna and I," Allen retorted, his wide eyes never leaving hers. By God, what was going on? He felt as if his insides were trembling. "What's going on here, Ayryn? How is it that you seem to know everything about us--about me, my family? Explain it to me plainly."

"Your life," she began slowly, "is written. It's a story. A work of fiction written by myself and a friend. Everything that's happened to you, to your sister, everyone you've met, everything you do is a written compilation sitting at home on paper."

"Everything...my life?" He stumbled backwards again, found his chair and sank wearily into it. He was shaking terribly now, torn between confusion, denial, exasperation--he laughed, weakly, and shook his head. "You're...you're lying. That's ridiculous. How can that be true? I'm here...I'm right here, and Celena, and...and you're here." He raised his gaze to her, distraught and pleading. "You're here. How can you be here, if...if we're not...."

"I don't know!" She threw up her arms, exasperated by the very thought. "I don't know how the hell I got here in the first place! At first it was great and I didn't want to leave but now - I still don't want to leave but how can I possibly stay if you know the truth about me."

Allen rubbed his forehead, where a steady ache was beginning to spread. "You...no, it can't be true. You..." His face twisted in an expression of pain as scenes of his life began to flash past, reminding him of all those old agonies. "Our entire life, and everything that happened. You mean--" His eyes thinned as the images surfaced in heart-tearing clarity. "My father, my mother, Celena's disappearance, Marlene's death...even Fanelia, Fried, the entire Gaean war...." His eyes wandered unwillingly to the length of fabric that swayed faintly at his right side. "....even...even this...."

"Everything." She said finally, hating to see such an expression of pain on his face. "But I can bring them all back if you want. Everything. Anything you want." she offered. "Give me a piece of paper and I'll write it all back to you."

Allen continued to stare at her, as if having not heard. "Everything," he repeated, his hand curling to a fist. And suddenly he was on his feet again, towering over her. "Why?" he demanded, his anger raw and biting. "Was it amusing to you--you and your, your friend? To give me happiness after so much suffering, only to damn me? Take your paper--damn your papers! How can you accuse me of cowardice and bitterness, when it was you that stole all I love?"

She couldn't hide the fact that his very real presence and height over her feared her and made her tremble all over again. Her eyes wide as they stared in cowardice at his taller form, she took a step back but found that the bookshelves were in her way. She pressed herself against it, wishing for a way out and knowing there was none. After all, isn't this what she wanted? "I - I didn't do it to hurt you. It was just a story! At least until now!"

"Just a story. Just a story? Well, I hope you've enjoyed it, then," he spat. "You have hurt me." He turned away abruptly, too overcome with emotion to face her anymore. "Get out. Leave me be."

"Are you - Are you going to throw me out?" she whispered, turning her head away. She didn't mean for this to happen. She only wanted to help.

Allen resisted the temptation to send her out, to throw her into the streets himself. The tremor in her voice held him back. "I...no. No, you've nowhere else to go," he murmured distantly. "Just...just go back to your room. And not a word of any of this to Celena. I don't think she would extend my same mercy."

She quickly left the room, without a word and trying to calm her whirling mind. He would never look at her the same way again and she didn't think there would be anyone else that would interest her. Not in this world. She wanted to stay for sure but she didn't want to be unwanted by the only fictional character she's ever had feelings for. 

The day wore on and Ayryn continued with her work as if nothing had happened. The fabric they had ordered from the dress-makers was delivered that afternoon and had been placed in Ayryn's room along with all the notions she would need. She dove herself in work, sewing and cutting fabric deep into the night. Anything to get her mind off of what happened. 

The sun rose and she worked on. It wasn't before long that the same sun seemed to set before she even noticed it was daytime. Again, the night came and she had finished both projects the had promised the Schezars. A silver and royal blue gown lay strewn about on the bed. In her hands, she held the embroidered long coat made of black material. It had a high collar embroidered with subtle gold leaves and ivy. The same on both cuffs. The gown was satin with shimmering silver trim and a sheer, chiffon shawl sewn at the shoulders. 

Her hands shook as she gather the garments as she had not had anything to eat for near two days. Slowly, she stood and made her way to Celena's room first, knocking softly.

"Come in!" Celena called. She had been going over some of her studies from the past few days, as she'd been shirking since Ayryn's arrival. Gaean history...bah. She didn't care what the pompous fools in Cesario had been doing fifty years ago. She closed the book and set it aside to receive her visitor, grateful for the interruption.

"I've - I've come to deliver your dress, my lady." She managed a brief, very weak curtsey and held the gown out to her.

Celena smiled, sweeping the gown out of Ayryn's outstretched arms. "Oh, it's lovely! You've done a wonderful job." Celena held it up to her, turned to the mirror. "Thank you, Ayryn. Perhaps I'll wear it at dinner tomorrow." She glanced back over her shoulder. "Are all right, Ayryn? I didn't see you at any of the meals today. I hope you weren't overworking yourself--this dress wasn't so important that I needed it right away."

"I'm fine, my lady." She sighed, turning to leave after a quick curtsey. She closed the door behind her and went to Allen's chamber door, knocking hesitantly and casting her gaze to the ground as she waited for response.

Allen answered the door himself. He wasn't sure who he was expecting, but when he saw Ayryn, his eyes widened a bit. Obviously he knew she hadn't eaten that day--not that he was much surprised by her avoiding him. "Yes?"

Her arms shook as she held out the extravagant suit to him, still averting her gaze and feeling ever-so faint. Just take it, she pleaded. "Your suit, master Allen." she whispered, not even noticing as she let herself call him such a reverent title.

He sighed quietly. "You know that's not necessary," he murmured, accepting the garment. She had spent quite some time in it, he observed, noting the ornate designs in the cuffs and collar. "It looks wonderful. Thank you."

"You're welcome..." she tried to curtsey but only ended up falling weakly to her knees, holding her head in her dizziness. Don't faint, she said to herself, not here and not now. Quickly, she struggled to stand again, holding onto the doorjamb and pulling herself up. "Forgive me...I - haven't been myself lately..."

Allen frowned at her sudden illness, his first instinct being to support her in some way. He placed his new coat aside and placed his hand on her arm to steady her. "You haven't eaten all day. Why don't you ask Mallie to fix something for you? I'm sure she wouldn't mind, as you've been working all day."

Ayryn shook her head, suddenly realizing that was a bad idea as it made her head worse. "I'm not hungry." she insisted and pulled away from him quickly, starting back down the hall to her room. She didn't get very far before promptly collapsing onto the hard wood floor.

Allen was at her side before he realized he'd moved, helping her to her feet once more. He...he hadn't forgiven her. It was just his nature, he reasoned. He was just helping her out. "Are you all right? I told you, you need to eat something and rest." He leaned her against the wall a moment as she collected her wits.

"I don't need to eat!" She said stubbornly, pushing him away. "I just - want to go to my room and stay there . . . sewing until I rot." She almost sounded drunk as she spoke, sinking to the floor as she leaned against the sturdy wall.

He stared down at her, feeling a pang of....guilt? How could he, after all she had caused him... He shook his head and crouched down at her level. "Ayryn," he told her softly, but firmly. "Don't be ridiculous. You need to eat."

"I will be ridiculous if I want to be." Did that make sense, she suddenly asked herself. "I don't expect anything from you, just like you don't expect anything from me. I just want to live out the rest of my life as it is. Even if I die of starvation."

"There are so many things I could say to you right now," Allen murmured, watching her with an odd sense of sympathy. "Most of which you've been saying to me all along."

"Just leave me alone." She wanted to stand but found the room spinning about her. She had to shut her eyes to keep from getting a headache. She didn't even notice herself gripping the sleeve on Allen's blue coat. She attempted to stand, to get away from him and more unwanted confrontation.

"That's not fair," Allen observed, keeping his hand on her shoulder to hold her steady. "You have no right to be upset with me, Ayryn. Now come on--I'll get you something to eat." He tugged her gently, urging her to make the effort to stand.

She didn't try to pull away this time, whether she gave up or was just too weak to fight, she couldn't really say. Stumbling alongside the tall man, she kept blinking slowly and felt as if she would fall asleep any minute. Somehow, she ended up in the dining room and sitting at the table there. She couldn't even remember when they had gotten there. "I'm not hungry." she protested weakly.

"Yes, you are," Allen retorted. He found Mallie in the kitchen, thankfully, cleaning up a bit, and asked that she might prepare something simple. That accomplished, he returned to Ayryn and took a seat beside her. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, of course I am. Besides an irreparable broken heart and an incredibly guilty conscious, I'm peachy!" She lay her head down on the table as a sudden dizzy spell overcame her.

He couldn't help but smirk a bit at that. "Irreparable broken heart indeed," he murmured, leaning back in his chair. "Hearts mend, Ayryn. You should know that--you...created me that way. Did you not?"

"Honestly - I didn't create you at all." She admitted softly.

"Well, you must have had some faith in me." Allen frowned only slightly, and gestured to his stump of an arm. "You didn't do this to break me, did you? I'm still here."

"That - is the only thing I'm responsible for. This world and everyone in it is someone else's creation made into a series of fiction that I grew interest in. So much that I wrote my own variation - a continuation from where the series ends."

Allen's frown deepened, trying to sort out and make sense of her words. Someone had created him....she had continued to create him. He wondered, then, exactly how much he could attribute to this mysterious woman. "In any case, do you not think you speak a bit prematurely?"

"Prematurely? Explain that." She narrowed her eyes at him in contemplation.

"You are a young woman," Allen complied, his tone even and compassionate. "I understand your wanting to stay here, but is your home so terrible? Do you not think it folly to...to love a man created on a whim?"

"No." She answered without emotion. She sighed, looking at him seriously, "If I'm stuck here, why waste my time worrying when I could be enjoying - the fruits of my labor so to speak. Or, someone else's in this case. The point is I've always liked you. And I always thought of you as daring and incredibly handsome and - all in all, an ideal that I could never even consider having. Until now, at least. Or - at least until I ruined everything and told you the truth about your life. Now you'll never like me. Not like that."

"Ayryn, you don't want me," he said firmly. "It's not right to love a fantasy. It's...painful." He pursed his lips and glanced away briefly, but quickly returned his full attention to her. "And if you recall," he added gently, "I turned you down before you mentioned my origins."

"Yes," she said through gritted teeth, though she tried to hide her tone, "I remember." How about sex? Just for kicks...she turned her head away. "What am I going to do now? There's nothing left for me. I can't even get the main character to fall in love with me! How pathetic is that!?"

Allen smiled. "Perhaps it means you are a better writer than you thought," he said pointedly, "that the characters are taking on lives of their own."

"Great...lives of their own. While it's a good thing for the characters, it sucks for me right now." She looked at him, almost in desperation, "Come on. Tell me that I'm at least - I don't know, pretty or something. Do you think I'm pretty?" She bat her eyes in an almost comical fashion.

Allen's smile widened. "Yes, I do. I always thought you were lovely," he said truthfully. "But I think you are a bit too strong for me, Ayryn. You know me too well."

"I'll pretend I'm ignorant about everything about you."

"I don't think that will work." He glanced up just as Mallie entered with a bowl of soup, some tea, and a bit of fruit. He thanked her and waited until she'd left before returning to their conversation. "Can you not accept my friendship?"

"Yes." She nodded, looking at the meal and picking at a piece of fruit. "But - could I ask for a favor?"

"You can ask," he replied smartly.

She noticed the bowl of fruit contained engleberries - or raspberries from her world and she smiled. "Do you think - well, would it be alright if . . . you held me? Just once, so that I would know how it felt like to be held by you?"

Allen nodded slowly--he'd anticipated something of the sort, and was glad in that she was not asking for more. "If I do, will you eat?" he asked pleasantly.

"Could you do it after I eat?" Dessert, she thought.

"As long as that food disappears, that's fine with me."

"Well, here. You can help." She offered him a raspberry with a wide smile, knowing he wouldn't take it. She was also not as ruthless as she had written Celena to be, making him eat a handful of them on a picnic day.

"No thank you," Allen carefully declined, watching her suspiciously. "I'm sure you knew by now that I detest such things."

"I wrote that quark about you. Originally, no one really focused a your character's simple likes or dislikes." She ate the berry and started on several more, speaking around them, "So I thought it'd be funny if you hated engleberries. Or raspberries where I come from. And even more hilarious when Celena forced a handful of them down your throat." She smiled but desperately tried to hide it.

Allen scoffed. "So that was your doing? I suppose you find my discomfort amusing." He stole a piece of melon from her plate, popped it into his mouth.

"Not - really. I didn't. . ." she sighed and began on her soup before continuing. "Are you referring to your arm? Or lack thereof?"

"Are there more things I should know about?" he asked, only partly joking.

"No, nothing entirely important. At first I was completely against the idea actually. After all, I - didn't want to hurt my favorite character." She flashed a smile at him.

"And?" he prompted, stealing another piece to at least uphold the image of being casual. "What changed your mind?"

"It - seemed a great challenge for me to write. And, just like the next person, I love a good challenge. So . . . I began writing, with that friend I told you about. Honestly, I couldn't have gotten anything done without her." She smiled fondly at the memory. "But when I first saw you with my own eyes - I don't know, I almost fell apart with guilt. You said so yourself that since I got here, I have done nothing but help you. Guilt can do a lot to change a person."

"Perhaps it is a lesson well learned, then," Allen murmured. "But...you didn't know, when you wrote it, that...that it would become more than what it was. Did you?" He watched her carefully, wondering at his own motivation in asking.

"You're right. I didn't know. But then again - it's what made the story. I never meant to hurt you intentionally because I didn't like you. I didn't even know you could really exist and I could really do the things - rather, do what I have done - that I wrote. Honestly, Allen - right now it's what makes you who you are. It's something that won't break you and that's what makes the story interesting. Though, I'm still sorry. I can't change it now."

Allen sighed quietly. There was no way to change it now...perhaps that had been his intention in asking all along. He glanced away. "It's...well, I can't very well condemn you for something you didn't mean to happen," he murmured. "After all, many of the very books I've been entertaining myself with of late have been somewhat tragic. But it still hurts." His lips twisted in a grim smile. "If not for me, then the countless others. But no, I cannot blame you."

"Thank you." She whispered sincerely. "I'm sorry about the pain - when it happened. I could have a least made it so . . . so it didn't hurt."

"There's no use worrying of such things now." He faced her, his smile growing in warmth. "I suppose...I just have to learn to live this way. It's no different than fate, is it? I'm yet alive. I...have that to be thankful for." He paused, remembering something she'd said before. "At least, you chose this, rather than Celena...."

"Oh, yeah . . . about that...." She bit her lip. It would be wrong of her to tell a lie, wouldn't it. She braced herself for the rebuke, waiting to be thrown out for good when she let it out, "She would have died - but I didn't tell you the end of the story..."

Allen held up his hand. "I don't want to hear it," he told her firmly. "I am not yet so comfortable with the idea as to hear all your intentions. Let us just leave it at that."

She nodded, pushing away the empty bowls and tea cup. "I'm finished eating." She stated.

"All right then." Allen pushed back from his chair and stood, offering his hand. "Then, as promised..."

"Not - in the kitchen, are we?" She looked up at him, taking his hand and squeezing gently.

He smiled. "No, of course not. I'll take you back to your room." He helped her to her feet, and folded her arm under his. He began to lead them out of the dining room.

"My room's a mess..." she complained though not without reason. "Fabric and lace everywhere, needles and thread strewn about..."

"Well then, what would you prefer?" he asked lightly.

"Your room?" She suggested with shrug.

Allen nodded vaguely. "Very well, then." He took them down the appropriate corridor. Perhaps this was some act of seduction, he thought with a bit of a smirk. Every once and a while, he lost himself when with this girl. Strange, that.

Ayryn opened the door to his room when they got there, since Allen's arm was taken otherwise he would have done it himself. She went inside while he went to light a candle. She looked around for a place to sit and the only place large enough for two people was - the bed. I hope he doesn't think I'm trying something funny, she thought worriedly as she took a seat on the soft feather downed mattress. "It's dark..."

Allen returned from the lantern to sit at her side. "There's not much to be done about it," he said with a bit of a shrug. He watched her intently, waiting for some indication. She too had been waiting patiently before she figured she was to make the move. So, gently, she scooted up close to him and hoped he would follow with the rest.

Allen smiled faintly as he wrapped his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close. He had expected to feel somewhat awkward, and yet felt nothing of the sort. She was simply warm and delicate.

She breathed the scent of him and nuzzled into him fondly. "Rosewater." She commented softly.

Allen frowned against her hair. "Rosewater?" he repeated curiously.

"You smell like rosewater." she reiterated. "It's beautiful. My favorite scent. I love roses. Pink ones." She sank lazily against him, determined to enjoy this moment for all it's worth.

He wondered briefly if she had been the one to grant him such a cologne as his favorite, and sighed quietly, forcing such thoughts aside. It didn't matter, he told himself, gently messaging her shoulder. Just hold her a while,. Just have peace, for a while.

"You're so warm...It's been so long since I've felt another warm body next to mine. And at least you're nice to look at." She played with his cravat gently.

Allen chuckled faintly. "If you say so," he murmured. 

She sighed sadly. He didn't really care. He's doing this as a favor, remember. She pushed him away gingerly. "I think we should stop..." she said reluctantly, and was already beginning to regret it.

Allen unwound from her slowly. He admitted quietly that it had, indeed, been sometime since he too had enjoyed the simple warmth of another human body beside his. But he couldn't be cruel to her. "Are you all right?" he asked gingerly.

"No." She answered honestly. "I'm very stupid, actually. I'm putting myself in a situation that will do neither me nor you any good. All this is going to do is toy with my feelings apart from making you uncomfortable. So perhaps it is best that I bid you a - goodnight." She lowered her gaze and was ready to leave but - not yet. She just couldn't leave yet.

He nodded slightly. He was too confused at the moment to offer any thoughtful response. "Yes. Good night, Ayryn. And thank you, for telling me the truth."

"Right. The truth." Still, she didn't move from her spot on his bed. She hoped, being very naive, that he would stop her or comfort her or admit that he too had not had the same feeling in a long time. She still hoped it would come and when it didn't, she waited still.

Allen waited a moment longer, watching her expectantly. He so hated this part... "Good night, then," he prodded gently. It wasn't especially that he even wanted her to love--only that she had to, for both of them.

She shook her head and laughed without humor. "I don't want to go."

"I know. But it's late." He smiled against the dark, hoping to keep their parting light. "And you could use the rest."

Will I truly be alone for the rest of my life? She asked herself, closing her eyes against more tears that threatened to spill, and stood onto her feet. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course." Allen tried not to notice, convinced himself that he didn't notice. He did not stand, only watched her. She had to be the one to walk away.

"You can be really insensitive sometimes." She huffed bitterly, not caring about her tears anymore.

Allen sighed. He should have known it wouldn't be this easy. "Ayryn. Please, just go to sleep," he said gently. "You're tired."

She wiped away her vain tears and nodded in a agreement. "I know I'm tired. Goodnight, Allen." Sadly, she turned and left his room.


	4. Part 4

Ayryn had not slept well that night. Groggily, she pushed back the covers and had forced herself out of bed. She had made herself a new gown since the cloth came in. She wore a simple gown of white with a green bodice and embroidered ribbon around the sleeves and the trim of the bodice. It fluffed at the sleeves and flowed gently as she walked down into the kitchen for a late breakfast.

Celena had lingered in the dining room a bit longer than usual that morning, sipping idly from her tea. She glanced up as Ayryn entered and smiled faintly. "Good morning," she greeted cordially. She was still coming to get used to the extra presence in the house. There were times when they seemed so similar they could have been sisters--other times, she simply wanted to wring the girl's neck.

Ayryn gave a kind, sincere smile and gladly took a seat next to her. "How are you this morning, Celena?" The tone in her voice suggested more sincerity than had ever been expressed to the other girl. Ayryn didn't notice, really, for she had come to think of Celena as her own sister.

Celena was a bit puzzled by her companion's tone, and unconsciously softened her own as well. "Oh, I'm fine. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day outside--would you be persuaded to join me in the market?" She wasn't sure why she was offering so casually; but then, it might be nice to have some company in town, without having to worry about her brother's self-consciousness.

"I would love to! Shopping for the next few days' meals? Or - what?" she grinned, a sparkle in her eyes that she didn't think she would ever regain after the night before. "More fabric? I can assure you we have plenty."

Celena shrugged. "I hadn't given it much thought. Maybe we can pick out some jewelry to go with all those new dresses you've been working on." She smiled, somewhat affected by Ayryn's sudden enthusiasm. "There's a rumor that Princess Millerna will be holding a ball soon."

"Oh - that's right." Uh-oh, Ayryn thought. He's going to be hurt again if she doesn't stop it. She'll think of something soon. Now, though, they were to go to the market and enjoy the day. "Why, that sounds lovely. That gown I made you should come in handy then, right?"

"Yes--I think it'd be perfect. And the lavender one we bought for you earlier would be just fine, as well. But it wouldn't hurt to accessorize." She winked. 

"You mean - I can go too?" She had an awkward smile on her face, one that pertained to amusement and delightful confusion. "I thought that sort of thing was only for knights and nobles and royalty?"

Celena smiled. "Oh, I'm sure we could come up with some excuse. Besides, Princess Millerna is a good friend of ours. I'm sure she wouldn't object." If anything, she would most likely be too caught up in the idea of meeting Allen to worry about one more guest. "That is, if you'd like to...?"

Princess Millerna...she had to keep herself from growling as she thought of the name and smiled at Celena. "I would love to. Thank you so much for letting me go."

"It's no problem at all. I'm sure Allen would like you to be there, too." She pushed back from the table. "Well, I'm going to find Misshel and have him prepare a carriage. Unless you'd like to ride..? It's been a while for me."

Ayryn's face lit up and she stood, almost jumping to her feet in her excitement. "I would love to ride! Oh, that would be wonderful! As long as we don't do any that side-saddle nonsense."

Celena laughed out loud. "Side saddle? Never." Still grinning she turned to leave. "I'll have the horses prepared. Come down as soon as you've finished eating."

Food....food is a good thing. With a sigh, Ayryn sat down again. Was she supposed to wait or call Mallie. She went to the kitchen, poking her head through the door and saw the cook. "Uh - Is there any breakfast left, Mallie?"

Mallie glanced up from her work at the stove. "'Course there is, 'love. I hope eggs will suit you well enough? I've got tea and biscuits, too, if you like."

"Please. I would be most grateful." She went back to the dining room. It wasn't before long that the eggs and biscuits disappeared from the plate just as Mallie set it in front of. The tea was nearly vacuumed out of it's cup before the cook could even reach the kitchen again. With a small hiccup of satisfaction, Ayryn stood and ran out, calling behind her, "Thanks, Mallie!"

Celena was waiting for her in the stables, having prepared the horses as promised. Misshel was seated nearby, smiling brightly, chatting about how excited he would have been to attend a royal ball. Celena giggled at his exaggerated speculations. She grinned as Ayryn entered. "Thank goodness, she's come to save me," she said with a wink toward the boy. "Are you ready?"

"I sure am! Which one's mine?" She asked, looking between the hazel-nut colored mare and the white one with a silver mane.

"The brown one," Celena answered with a nod toward it. "Her name's Falcon. I always ride Mystic." She swung up into the saddle and patted the beast affectionately.

"Right...I almost forgot." And that's the truth, Ayryn thought with a frown. She mounted Falcon and gave the animal a wary eye. "This isn't the same horse that threw your brother, is it?"

She was startled a moment before remembering her companion's abilities, and then laughed. "Oh, no, it's not. Falcon's one of our older mares--I wasn't sure how much experience you've had." Misshel ran to open the gate for them, and Celena guided her mount out of the stables. "She'll behave."

"Experience." She pushed her horse to follow Celena's, "I've had plenty of experience." She grinned and Celena and gave her horse a good kick, "Hya!" Off she went, leaving a trail of dust behind her as she galloped down the road.

"So I see," Celena murmured. A mischievous grin fit into her features, and she spurred Mystic after her. It wasn't difficult for the younger animal to catch up, where upon they matched paces on their way into the city. "Well, I guess I had nothing to worry about!" she called over the pounding hooves.

Ayryn was in crouched position on her horse, her head leaned down towards Falcon's neck and pressing her knees against the sides of the animal. She held reigns just under her. "Not a thing!" The raced on like that all the way to the city gates. By then, she had to slow down her horse and looked to Celena for instruction.

Celena gradually slowed Mystic to a trot, and glanced about to get her bearings. "This way," she said, leading the pair down the street to a small stable where they would be able to hitch their horses for the day. Expenses would be, she thought with a smile, attributed directly to the Schezar estate.

The horses taken care of, the girls went walking down the streets of Palas. The murmur of large crowds become louder as they went along. "Have you ever traveled on a gondola here, Celena? It seems like a lovely way to travel about the city. There's a city where I come from very similar to this one."

"No, I've never been on one." Celena smiled. "But I think that would be wonderful sometime. Are there many cities like this where you're from?"

"Just the one that I know of." She nudged Celena playfully and gave a mischievous glance. "Any handsome young men in your life?"

She laughed cheerfully. "Oh, a few, I guess. None that really suited me." She frowned slightly with the memory of at least one that had caught her heart, however foolishly. "Well....maybe there was one. But it was nothing."

"A knight." She said. "With dark brown hair and violet eyes. A dashing young samurai. Haven't you seen him lately?"

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Celena rebuked mildly, her frown deepening even as her cheeks flushed with the memory. "And no, I haven't seen him since...well, since the accident." Ayryn would know what she meant--she should, anyway.

"Do you blame him for what happened to your brother?" She asked in a sympathetic tone. They walked along the vast waterways of a more peaceful side of Palas.

"Sometimes," she admitted guiltily. "In the beginning, when Allen was so miserable. Later, I only blamed myself." She sighed. "I don't know who to blame anymore. But I regret...turning him away like I did."

"Denevive still hopes for your affection, Celena." stated Ayryn knowingly, "he's very lost right now and places blame on himself for Allen's injury. You should seek him for he desperately needs love. Just as your brother does as well."

"Ayryn, stop that." Celena looked away, frowning deeply. "You...you shouldn't say things like that. I don't need any more fate in my life."

With that, Ayryn kept quiet as they continued their peaceful stroll down the more quiet streets of the city. "Celena," she said after a moment, "is Allen still in need of aid to dress himself in the mornings?" Her tone was almost forcibly casual even if there was a reason behind the question aside from mere curiosity.

She glanced at her companion sharply. "No, he's been getting along just fine lately." There was terse note in her tone she didn't mean to be there, in the knowledge that her brother no longer needed her help in such matters.

"It's okay. It doesn't mean he doesn't want you around. Even if you always want to help him, you always will, but there are some things he has to do on his own. It gives him dignity. And right now, he needs all the self-esteem he can get. You understand, don't you?"

"Of course I understand," Celena replied instantly. "He's my brother, after all." She straightened somewhat. "I'll always take care of him."

"I know." She smiled at her. "Speaking of which, Allen's self-esteem and all. . . You think he's actually going to want to go to this ball?"

Celena shrugged a bit. "I don't think he'll want to at first. But I know he's been wondering about Princess Millerna lately, so I think he could be convinced. It will be good for him."

"Which part? The ball or the princess? And isn't she Queen now?"

"Oh, that's right." She shrugged again. "I guess I'm not used to calling her that. But yes, I think both will be good for him. I know he desperately wants to know what Millerna thinks....even if she will scorn him, which I don't think she will..." Celena wished then that she knew Millerna better, to judge what her reaction would be. "In any case, he needs to be seen if people are going to get used to him."

"Yes, you're right." She stopped walking a moment, Celena noticing and curiously gazing at her as she stopped as well. "I have to tell you something - about Millerna . . . you want to know what she thinks?"

"No. No, I don't want to know," Celena lied. But she didn't want to hear it from her--it was eerie, knowing that Ayryn had such power. "That's not the way it's supposed to work." She smiled. "We have to live our own lives and make our own mistakes, after all."

"Even if your brother will be hurt in the aftermath?" She asked matter-of-factly, cocking her head to the side and regarding the taller girl studiously.

Celena bit her lip. "If...if he's going to be hurt, he needs to get there by himself. Knowing about it won't help." She dropped her head slightly, her eyes thinning. "If we'd known about what was going to happen, without having the power to change it...I don't think I could have stood that. No, Ayryn, it's all right." She took in a deep breath. "Thank you. But I think it's better this way."

"If you say so. But you can always change the future, no matter what." She took Celena's hand with a wide smile, hoping she'll forget about such matters on such a beautiful day. "Come on, I think the Market's down this way." She started leading them closer to the cacophony of large crowds and music.

Celena smiled, relieved that they'd moved off the topic as she happily followed Ayryn into the market. There were people everywhere, attracted--as they had been--by the favorable weather. They nearly had to push their way through the crowds. "I don't know how much we're going to get done in this!" she declared, laughing.

"Swim, Celena!" She declared, laughing as well. She held on tight to the other girl's hand and led them dubiously through the ocean of people. "I don't see a jewelry stand - oh, wait! There's one!"

"Where?" Celena giggled, trying to push past a group of chattering beast-men, following her companion just barely. At last she spotted the stand, and was able to make her way over. "Whew! What a crowd."

"No kidding...now, let's see. What do we have here? Rings?" She pointed to the appropriate cases, "Bracelets, earrings....necklaces... or the penny-basket?"

"I think I could use a good necklace," she said, inspecting the wares. "Oh, aren't they all lovely? And I'm sure this would look wondering on Allen." She indicated a group of small lapel pins and hair ties. "To go with that new coat."

"Gold then, since I embroidered with gold colored thread on the collar." She looked over the necklaces herself and spotted something rather peculiar, "Goodness..." she saw a necklace made of a short string of pearls with a piece made of silver. The silver piece of a large oval, large enough to be a cameo brooch but had a pinkish rose holding a small pearl in its center. She held up the necklace, "Isn't this lovely?" I have one just like it, she thought wryly.

"Yes, it is," Celena affirmed, admiring the craftsmanship. She sifted through the piles of rings and brooches. "I'll never decide at this rate. There's just too much1"

"Well, for Allen. There's a nice pair of cuff links with gold ivy leaves that would suit him nicely. We'll get a black ribbon for his hair. Sapphires for you, if that helps. Mounted on silver to match the trim on your dress. As for me..." She looked at the necklace she held, then to the penny basket, "Could I have four coppers?"

"Of course. You've done such good work lately, and I suppose I owe you that much." Celena gladly offered the sum. "Besides, this will be a royal ball. You'll need to look your best."

She grinned at Celena. "Four coppers isn't much but I thank you. This necklace costs about 2 gold pieces. But don't worry." She winked, gathering four pieces from the penny basket to successfully hide the pearl necklace in her palm. "Uh - merchant. Four pieces from the penny-basket. How much do I owe you?" She saw the merchant was busy negotiating with a hard-bargaining customer and patiently waited for response.

Celena stared at her, realizing what was going on. At last the clerk turned to accept Ayryn's payment. Well, as a knight, Celena wasn't about to let her friend get away with thievery: while the pair was involved in their exchange she carefully set the necessary gold pieces on the table, masking the action by seeming to inspect a diamond necklace. The clerk would find the payment later, when he settled his accounts, which was good enough. Neither had to know. She straightened as the exchanged ended.

"A job well done, if I say so myself." She grinned, completely oblivious. "Haven't you chosen anything for your dress yet?" She gave the case a once-over glance. "Perhaps our luck has been spent at this booth anyway. We could move on and find another with better jewelry. Come along, then. We still have to find some things for Allen too." She took Celena's hand without a second thought and pulled her once again through the crowds.

Celena allowed herself to be dragged through the crowds, grinning smugly to herself. She didn't respond until they'd reached the next booth, which was mostly necklaces, to her delight. "Hello there," she greeted the clerk pleasantly. "I'd like to buy a necklace. But watch out for my friend here, she has an eye and a hand for mischief." When he regarded her with bewilderment, she laughed and poured over the items for sale.

Ayryn didn't bother commenting on Celena's ruse but pretended to be interested in the merchandise. "Celena," she asked in a curious tone, "How is the state of your brother's bedroom mirror?" Why was she asking this? Too late, already asked.

Celena glanced up at her carefully. Doubtlessly this was another of Ayryn's little mysticisms, and that made her wary. "I don't see why it would be anything other than fine," she replied, returning her attention to the jewelry. 

The shorter girl hummed to herself in contemplation. Uh-oh, she thought. I think it's supposed to happen today... "Uh, Celena - it might be a good idea to finish up the shopping and get home soon."

"Oh? And why's that?" I'm not going to let her intimidate me, Celena thought deftly. She wasn't interested in knowing the future. What would come would come. At least, she continued to tell herself that as she selected a necklace from the stand to purchase: diamonds and sapphires.

"My, my. Don't we have pricey tastes." She commented with a grin. "Quickly. Purchase the necklace. I have a bad feeling that something's wrong at home."

Celena did pay for the necklace, though she did so in the most calm and collected manner possible. "Don't try to scare me, Ayryn," she said, even as she was feeling a bit anxious now. "But if you think it's that important, we'll leave."

The girls rode full speed, side by side as they raced back to the house. Ayryn hopped off her horse just as she reached the front steps of the manor, running inside and upstairs to Allen's room. "Allen!" She called, not even stopping to wait for Celena. She opened the door to his room, "Allen, are you here?"

Her voice echoed without response as she discovered the room empty, his mirror intact. Well, at least he didn't go in a rage... She couldn't help running back downstairs to the study where he seems to be spending so much time. She opened the door and still no one was there. Her face contorted in confusion. "Mallie!" she called, going into the kitchen and finding the cook there, working readily on lunch for that day. "Mallie, have you seen Allen?"

"Master Allen? Why, he's been gone all morning," Mallie replied pleasantly. "Is it urgent? He said he'd be out by the ocean." 

Ayryn spared no more time and briefly thanked the cook before running out the back door. All this running certainly tired her out and she ended up walking the rest of the way, letting her nose lead her to the smell of the ocean. Celena must have been looking everywhere else in the house. At last, she broke through the dense trees and saw the large blue expanse of water, her feet digging into the sandy beach. "Allen?"

Allen was seated on a rocky outcropping at the sea's edge, his boots and socks strewn behind him, his feet dangling in the water childishly. He glanced up as Ayryn approached, and sighed. He should have known she would come looking for him. He turned his gaze back to the ocean as he awaited her to come nearer.

She regarded him curiously as she stepped closer and eventually took a seat next to him. "Hey." She said softly, nudging him a little with a small smile. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just came here...to think a bit." He wasn't sure how to respond to her, after the night before. For a moment he envied her clairvoyance; he wished he knew what she was thinking. "Are you?"

"Yes." Affectionately, she brushed a hand through his hair. "What did you come here to think about?"

Allen pulled away from her slightly. "Things," he replied evasively. Had she given up? Or was she still determined to hold on to him? He wasn't sure what he'd do if it was the latter. 

"Things, he says." she mocked with good humor and wasn't hurt that he shied away from her touch. "I can't read minds, Allen. What kinds of things?"

"Just things. Everything." He raised his head slightly, watching the waves that crested against the harbor rocks. "Myself, mostly."

She looked down into the water. It was clear blue and she could see the sandy shallow floor below. The weather made it tempting to go for a swim. "Yourself? What about yourself?"

Allen sighed in exasperation. "Just, things," he repeated, growing somewhat annoyed. He hadn't intended on company today. He tried to make his voice lighter. "You don't have to know everything, do you Ayryn?" he asked with a bit of a smile.

"No, I suppose I don't." She was very tempted to push him in. He was just sitting there, not expecting it, dangling his feet in the water. It looked warm enough so that cold wouldn't be a shock - she had to force herself to be good. "Do you want me to leave?"

He wanted to tell her to go. It would be easier for him, if she did. But he had so little company these days, he couldn't say it was unpleasant to have her there. "No, it's...all right. I don't mind."

"Then please tell me the thoughts plaguing you so, Allen." She prodded gently. "I know I might not be very good company but - I wish you would trust me."

He snorted. "Do I have a choice? You already know everything about me." He stopped when he realized how bitter he sounded. "No--I'm sorry, Ayryn. I'm not really mad. Just a bit distraught at the moment."

"About last night? Or is it something more?" 

How could she speak of it so openly? He wondered if she was even more quick to heal than he'd thought. "Yes, actually. Both. And more."

"You're such a clam! Why won't you tell me? It kills me that you can't even talk to me after something like that, after last night. Don't you think it hurts me too?" She sighed in frustration before shoving off the rock and landing in the warm ocean with a splash.

"Then what do you want from me?" Allen demanded. "To spill all my secrets for you, so you can spin even more complex webs for me, a more complicated dance?" He wondered if she even realized that he had rejected her last night. She didn't seem to. And that worried him.

"How am I suppose to answer that?" She growled, "Come in and swim with me. Maybe it'll help calm you down. It's warm water." She didn't have to fight very hard against the gentle currents near the shore and had no trouble swimming about the clear water.

"I don't want to swim," Allen replied stubbornly, frowning at her. She was ruining a perfectly good outfit that way, as far was he was concerned. 

She grabbing the edge of the outcrop of rock where he sat and pulled herself up next to him. Water drained from her dress and stuck to her skin. "I'm sorry you think your life is miserable."

Again he snorted indignantly. "And who made it that way?" he retorted. He knew he was being cruel, but all his frustrations were beginning to mount.

"Okay, now your just being mean and I resent that. I already explained it to you and as near as I could tell, you've already forgiven me." She studied his face, long and hard before speaking again. "Allen, do you honestly think you're not attractive?"

"And what has that to do with anything?" he retorted, bewildered. "And I never said I didn't."

"It's a common thought that goes with amputations. I thought it might've been on your mind." She shrugged, sighing and resorting to dangling her feet in the water as he was doing.

"A common thought? Is that to say, you're quite knowledgeable in the subject?"

"I had to research it. It doesn't make any sense to write about something you know nothing about."

Allen glanced away, refusing to admit that she was right. "No, I don't think I'm unattractive," he said after a moment, a bit too quickly. Perhaps now undesirable, but not unattractive. Some things he would never lose confidence in.

"You always did have a healthier state of mind than most." She said with a smile. "You've a strong spirit and you're quite charming, when you want to be," she muttered the last, "How could they pass you up?"

"Well, I don't know." There. Would she be satisfied? She was such an odd girl--he could never tell what she was thinking. "Is that all?"

"Is what all?"

"Are you finished interrogating me?"

"No, if you put it that way. Do you hate me now?" She asked worriedly. The last thing she had wanted to do was turn him away completely. Now it seems that he's not even willing to share a friendship with her.

Did he? He frowned, realizing that he couldn't answer yes. He didn't hate her--he didn't even blame her that much, not any more. So how did he feel? "No, I don't hate you," he answered at last. "Though I'm not quite sure what to do with you."

"Am I burden, then? Not quite sure what to do with me, indeed. It sounds as if you're debating whether to hang me up on a hook or throw me into a waste basket!"

"Well, I just might!" Allen declared, though with good humor. "And what would you do then, hmm? Could you interrogate me like that?"

This was certainly an odd change. Was he - joking? "I suppose not." She said warily, "Is that what you've been trying to get me to do all along? Make me stop asking questions?"

"Perhaps," he admitted evasively. "You certain are full of enough of them."

"It's called active conversation. It's what makes you keep talking to another person instead of sitting there like a lump. You've been a great lump so far." She grinned a bit at him and hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Allen made a face at her. "Maybe I'll ask about you, then," he declared suddenly. "About the family you abandoned on the Mystic Moon, your friends and your life. How about that?"

"Go ahead and ask if you're really interested..." She said, unscuffed.

"Don't you miss your world at all?" he asked, somewhat disappointed in her lack of response. 

"Sometimes." She admitted quietly, "But not so much that would make me want to go back. It wasn't just my life there, which mind you was going no where, but in general it's not that great of a place. Resources are drying up, we're polluting the air and littering and making it a very unpleasant place with a booming technology."

Like Zaibach, Allen thought with a frown. "Isn't there anyone there wondering about you?" he prodded gently. "You're such a lively girl, I can't imagine you being quite lonely."

"No. No one. I had a boyfriend but," she shuddered, "he was ugly as sin and I don't know why I dated him. Scrawny as a stick, thick black hair. Ick, he had hair all over his body! And he hardly brushed his teeth or bathed. The only reason he dated me was to get in bed with me. So that relationship ended. Then the only friend I had left was a machine. That friend I told you about - I would communicate with her over a machine. Life didn't go anywhere passed that. So you can see why I'd want to stay."

"That friend of yours...would she not worry?" he persisted. "How can you be so lively and independent here, and not in your own world?"

"It's difficult in my world." she said with a sigh, "Here there aren't as many pressures. I can make a livelihood of sewing easily, which I love to do and couldn't dream about doing back home. The air is clean and fresh, I know the people here, I know my way around, and you're forced to be more active. At home, there are bills to pay, taxes, you need a car to get anywhere and I didn't have one. Too expensive and not enough money...it's a whole list of problems that I would prefer to forget about."

Allen frowned. He didn't quite understand, but was accepting. "In that case, I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "It may not be everything you hope for, but it is your world. This..." He glanced about, feeling the rough texture of the rocks beneath his hand, the salty aroma of the sea tickling his senses, and pushed the words through. "This world may be easier, but how long do you think you can stay? We...we aren't real, Ayryn. Do you really belong here?"

"You're real enough now." She smiled, "There was a series of books I read once about a special race. They had a gift to create worlds through their writing and travel to them when they were finished. In it, the main character contemplates later if they had created the worlds - or if they had created gateways to the worlds that already existed out in the universe. It's something to think about, isn't it?"

Allen pondered that a moment, trying not to get tangled in his own thoughts. "If...you say so. I suppose it's possible." He smiled faintly. "So, you are planning on living here indefinitely?" he asked, slightly toying.

"I personally don't see why not. It's nice here, as long as you don't get all crabby." She gave him a look, similar to something his sister might have done.

"I am not crabby," Allen protested, shifting on the rock. "I'm just . . . contemplative."

"Well, contemplate going swimming with me then. I'm starting to get dreadfully cold." She picked up her feet to remove the shoes she'd forgotten to remove before jumping into the water, peeling off her soppy stockings and letting them dry on the rock.

"Like this?" Allen said, bewildered. In full clothing? How ridiculous. "I don't feel like swimming."

"No. Wear your pants. Take off the shirt and coat. I don't care. I just want a swimming partner." She smiled as charmingly as she could and hoped for a positive response.

"But I like these pants..." All the same, he began to undress, frowning to himself all the while. He didn't really want to, but...it was better than nothing. He removed his shirt and followed Ayryn out into the water.

"Ah." She said, swimming around him. "Isn't it nice? I haven't felt water this warm since my visit to Mexico - five years ago..." She looked over to Allen to see how he fared. It was certainly different without his shirt on. She cringed as she watched his right stump moving about as he manipulated it - as if he still had the arm. It was weird but she didn't comment.

Allen shrugged. Though he'd lived near the ocean most of his life, he didn't swim much. It was nice, however, to be out of the heat. "Yes, it is nice."

"Come on over this way. There's a little island of rock over there. Maybe we can see a mermaid or something." She grabbed his hand and started for the place she'd mentioned.

Allen floundered a moment before tactfully retrieving his hand--with her holding him, he had no way of keeping his head well above water. "I've never seen a mermaid," he said, following. "But I suppose there must be some around."

"You okay, back there?" She called as she swam ahead. It wasn't very far but she had to wonder how hard it was to swim with one arm...

"I'm fine," he called after her, making his way slowly. It was difficult to manage with only one arm, but he was managing well enough. "I haven't swam in quite some time."

"I know." She said with a bit of a smile, pulling herself up onto the smooth boulder out in the ocean. She watched as Allen slowly made his way up to the rock as well and offered to help him up.

Allen gratefully accepted her help in climbing onto the rock, coughing a bit. "Thank you." He settled himself, though he did feel a bit proud. "I've never been out here," he said with a bit of surprise.

"And who'd have thought that your first time would be - well, now after everything that's happened." She indicated his arm, smiling at him but leaving it to that.

"Yes, you're right." He was surprised that her words didn't offend or upset him. It was, after all, the truth. "So...did you swim often? On your world?" he asked, searching for conversation.

"My dad liked to call me a fish." She grinned, pushing herself further onto the rock. "I wonder how to - oh, wait! I remember. You sing. Mermaid's like singing. That's why they befriend sirens all the time..."

"Sing?" he echoed, frowning. Though his sister had been gifted with a truly elegant voice, he had never attempted as such. "Perhaps I'll leave it up to you."

"Well, of course silly. Although I would have liked you to have a nice singing voice, you said yourself that you're tone deaf...Funny, I always try to make my favorite characters at least decent singers..." She shrugged.

Allen shifted uncomfortably, determined not to be undone. "I didn't say I was tone deaf," he said haughtily.

"Then sing!" She insisted, smiling widely now.

"All right, then!" Allen cleared his throat, and already was regretting it. "Um...what should I sing?" he asked sheepishly

"Do you know the Song of the Sea?" She asked with a curious gaze. "It's seems appropriate. Unless you have something else in mind?"

"Actually, I do...." Allen murmured, though he wouldn't question how she knew it. But to sing like that....well, there was a first time for everything. "I won't have you laughing at me, by the way," he said seriously.

"I'm a singer. I'm not going to mock you if you try. It's unprofessional."

"Well...all right then." Allen cleared his throat again and attempted the first verse, and was pleasantly surprised when the first sound didn't send her tumbling, horror-struck, into the ocean. He wasn't used to it, and could not judge what the tone sounded like, but it was...fun. He smiled.

When he finished the song, she applauded enthusiastically. "Oh, that was lovely! Bravo! Encore! Encore!" She smiled at him and was pleased when the gesture was returned. "You're not a bad singer at all! You've a lovely voice!" She looked into the ocean. "No mermaids yet, though..."

Allen shrugged, though her praise did make him swell a bit with pride. "I'm sure they'd rather come to the lovely voice of a woman," he said pointedly.

"Is that a hint?" She grinned. "Well, what should I sing?"

"Well, I don't know any Mystic Moon songs," Allen said with a shrug. "Surprise us all."

"I know all the songs from here, Allen." She said in a cocky tone, "I even wrote one."

"Oh? Then...how about White Dove?" he suggested, smiling. Though it was a song usually sung by a man, he was eager to hear another interpretation.

"Hmm. White Dove...I know it." She took a deep breath, familiarizing herself of the lyrics. "Okay, here it goes." At first, it was a bit shaky. She had to switch octaves but when the chorus came, it wasn't so bad. Perhaps he'd dare to ask her to sing another song too and really show off her talents...not that she was trying to show off.

Allen grinned openly in appreciation of her ability, tapping his hand against his thigh in mock applause. "Simply lovely. Perhaps I'll convince Celena to sing a duet with you sometime."

"Aw, shucks. I'd really like that." She started humming another song. So many songs she could sing and she started with some jazzy blues by Billy Joel. "Some days I wanna give right into the blues, despite how I try - to keep fightin' it's a sure shot I'm gonna lose...And I'll tell you why. You'd think I'm crazy... It's such a sad composition. But can you blame me. What's causin' my bad disposition. Ain't nothin' new with my blue situation. And nothin's fine it's just a minor variation."

Allen listened intently, not ashamed to admit that he was somewhat captivated by the sound of her voice. It was such a unique song, too, and he was eager to hear more. "Your voice really is wonderful," he complimented. "I would love to hear more."

"Well, I have plenty more. Let's see..." She thought for a moment, thinking about the tune and went on to sing a sad song called Blue Eyes. Her voice was a bit deeper from the song's original artist, as she was used to a more Alto range but her vibrato was steady and pulled the tune off very nicely.

This song subdued him somewhat, as the words struck him in a way that was almost personal. He was silent for a moment once she'd finished. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you." She blushed. There was a giggle nearby, the source from a high pitched voice and she started suddenly, turning her gaze to Allen. "Did you just hear something?"

"Yes..." Allen glanced about curiously, trying to find the source. Could it have been....? "Do you think....?"

"I - don't know..." She crawled over to the other side of the boulder as its surface tilted upwards. At the edge, she looked down into the water. It was higher than it looked and just under her outcrop was a little concave alcove. She couldn't believe what she saw there, lounging in full view. A beautiful mermaid! She had blue and green fins and scales that seemed to shine of their own light. She gasped and tried to hide. The mermaid didn't seem to see her. "Allen..." She whispered, awestruck.

Allen scooted up to her, and ducked when he saw the mermaid. She was more lovely than he'd imagined, and he was quickly silenced. He'd never seen a mermaid before--had always hoped to, since he was a boy, but there simply had never been time to sit idly on the beach and sing. He grinned broadly.

Cupping a hand over his ear to whisper to him, she hissed, "Should we say something?"

"I don't know," he replied just as softly. "Would she swim away? I've never seen one."

"Neither have I. She must trust us if she came to listen to us sing..." She looked back down, scooting a little bit more to get a better look. Just a little more....She went too far and lost her grip, flipping over the edge of the rock and ending up in the mermaid's alcove. Ooh, that hurt...she rubbed a spot on her head that she hit before realizing what she had done. Curiously enough, the mermaid was still there, staring at her. "Um...hello..."

The mermaid flicked her hair back, watching Ayryn curiously. "I heard your signing," she declared. "Are you a siren? You seem to have caught yourself a handsome one."

"No - he won't come with me. He's a stubborn one." Maybe if she passed herself off as a siren, it won't scare the mermaid away. "Any suggestions, cousin?"

"Well, give it time, sister. The most beautiful ones are hard to catch." The mermaid smiled at Allen appreciatively, who was watching the scene with considerable amusement. "Perhaps something a bit more lively?"

"You think that would work?" She gazed at the mermaid curiously, amazed by the exchange of words occurring at that moment. "He is rather full of energy." She grinned up at Allen and hoped he didn't take any of this the wrong way.

"Oh, yes, certainly. He looks like he could use a bit of excitement."

"I thank you for your help, cousin. Would you like to hear a song before we part ways?" She couldn't help getting completely into character now, her eyes glistening with excitement as she waited for the mermaid's response.

She smiled brightly. "Why, yes, I think that would be lovely. I would be honored."

With a bit of a hum as she thought of another tune, she took a breath and began to sing a song called Into the Light. A lovely, bouncy ballad that happened to be one of Ayryn's favorites. Again her voice was lower than the original singer and her Japanese was a bit hesitant but the song came out lovely nonetheless. She smiled at the mermaid when she finished. "You've yet to tell me your name, sister."

"Uyla," the mermaid replied, her appreciation of her companion's talents showing in her face. "And you, sister?"

"Ayryn." She said happily. "Perhaps we shall see each other again in the future. But until then," She kissed the palm of her hand and held it up, waiting for Uyla to do the same, "Be well." Thank goodness she remembered the parting custom between sirens and mermaids or Uyla might have realized she wasn't what she thought she was.

Uyla repeated the gesture and touched their hands together. "And you," she said happily. And with a flick of her tail and a shimmer of iridescent light, she had vanished once more beneath the waves.

With a sigh of astonishment, she managed to grasp the edge from where she had fallen. Vainly, she tried to pull herself up, grunting and managing a small, "Help." to the wide-eyed youth above her.

Allen shook himself from his own admiration, helping Ayryn climb up onto the rock once more. "That was amazing!" he declared, his features alight with a wide grin. "I can't believe you actually met one. They're very rare, you know."

"Are they?" She gasped, laying herself down after the struggle to climb. "Well, what do you know? Celena's going to go insane with jealousy." She laughed a bit, "She actually thought I was a siren..."

"It's a good thing she didn't find out," Allen said, nodding thoughtfully. "Mermaids have been known to eat those that insult or displease them...."

"Liar." She stuck out her tongue at him.

Well, it had been worth a shot. He smirked, and tapped her forehead. "That's very rude," he said pointedly.

"Ow...watch where you poke." She rubbed ruefully at the bump she got on her head. She looked down at her hands and suddenly felt a stinging in her kneecap as well. "Well, I'm just scratched and bleeding all over the place. And salt water's gotten in them..." She held back a grimace.

"You should have thought of that before you went tumbling down the rock," he replied smartly. "And I can't exactly carry you back through the water. Why don't we wait here a while?"

"I can swim just fine. I'm not an invalid..." She regretting saying those words the moment she spoke them. "They're just cuts after all."

Allen lifted an eyebrow, ignoring her slip. It wouldn't do either of them good to become temperamental now. Besides, he had just met a mermaid--nothing else seemed relevant at the moment "It's going to hurt a lot."

"Oh, well." She said apathetically, "Grin and bear it is all I can do. Come on." She limped down to the edge where they had been lounging and serenading each other earlier. There she quickly dove into the water and managed to scream underwater when the pain hit. At least, she didn't think he would hear her. Gritting her teeth, she tread above the surface and started back towards the make-shift jetty.

Allen sighed at her boldness, and followed. He would have helped her along, were he able to given his condition, but was reduced to merely treading alongside, casting her sympathetic glances. "We'll get you cleaned up back at the manor," he promised.

"Yeah, okay." She managed through clenched teeth. For some reason, she suddenly manifested a fear that she only felt when being chased by a very malevolent thing and she felt a rush of adrenaline. It didn't matter if there was real reason to have fear but she thought she would ask nonetheless. "Allen, sharks aren't common here, are they?"

"Not this close to shore," he replied shortly. Not that he really knew. He wasn't concerned with the workings of the sea or its children. If any of this uncertainty affected him, he didn't show it.

Either way, she began to swim much faster than normal, fear driving her even if for no reason. "I don't want to stay and find out otherwise. They can smell blood from miles away!" She got to the jetty and climbed up as if the water was burning her. There she lay panting. "I don't like things with sharp, pointy teeth..."

"Neither do I." Allen climbed out of the water and began to squeeze the water out of his hair. It would take forever to dry, he thought with a frown. He wiped his face and tasted salt. "Ah, but what an amazing day. Thank you, for forcing me out there."


End file.
